In Dreams: The Twelve Days of Christmas
by Medea3
Summary: A Sami-Lucas Christmas Story.


"In Dreams: The 12 Days of Christmas"  
by Medea  
Part 1  
  
Disclaimer: The things which appear in this story despite the fact that they are not mine are too numerous to list. Most importantly, Ken Corday and NBC own all things Days of Our Lives.  
  
Note: Damn am I bitter that Days will never pair Sami and Lucas, and have in fact had him try to kill her twice. That has nothing to do with the story-- I just wanted to preserve the thought for all eternity.  
  
Note 2: This story assumes that nothing came out of the "Italy" story because I'm beginning it before that story runs its course.  
  
  
Date: December 14, 2000   
  
Lucas roughly clamped his hand around Sami's upper arm and jerked her back onto the curb as a green minivan rolled by, sending a stream of gray slush in their direction. Sami did not thank Lucas; he did not expect her to do so. After all, he might have let her walk in front of the van had her hand not been firmly clasped around that of his five-year-old son.  
  
He caught a glimpse of Sami's face when he released her arm, no less roughly than he had grabbed it, and gained a warped sense of pleasure from the fact that she was obviously miserable and trying to hide that fact for her son's sake. Misery loved company, even the company of its worst enemy, and Lucas was feeling pretty rotten himself. He hated the decorations in Salem Place. He hated the Christmas trees, the wreaths, the plastic Santa Clauses and reindeer, the menorahs that had been added for good measure. He hated the laughter of the people around him, with one notable exception.  
  
Lucas loved it when Will laughed. When Will laughed, all of Lucas' embittered feelings faded into the deep recesses of his mind. He no longer minded that Salem was impossible to navigate in car or on foot because its inhabitants were so focused on their month-long celebration of the commercial monstrosity that was Christmas. He no longer minded that, save his son, he had no one with whom to share the holiday. He no longer minded that his wife hated him but could not divorce him because they both needed to keep their images up for the moment. He no longer minded that the mother of his only child hated him and was trying with every fiber of her being to take the boy from him. He no longer minded that his own mother quite frankly frightened him. He no longer minded that that autumn he had taken a disastrous trip to Italy and had nearly killed his former best friend in an attempt to save his own life.  
  
Yes, Will's laughter was a powerful thing.  
  
So, in order to obtain it, Lucas had agreed to take Will to Salem Place to visit Santa Claus with Sami in tow. Will frequently hinted that he would like to be accompanied by both of his parents to some event or other, and his parents generally denied him that pleasure. It would not be a pleasure, after all, if they wound up fighting. But Christmas was Christmas, and the rules were different. In addition, Will had begun to display a slight manipulative streak-- not really a surprise, Lucas thought ruefully, considering the people he had grown up around. Will had sworn that he would NOT take two trips to Salem Place, one with each parent. In fact, he would not go to Salem Place at all except on his own conditions. He wanted to visit Santa Claus with his Mommy and his Daddy and no one else.  
  
Lucas did not want to teach his son to blackmail.  
  
He knew he should deny him.   
  
He could not.  
  
Neither could Sami.  
  
So the three stood together in the chilly December air as they awaited Will's turn to sit on Santa's lap and tell him just what he wanted to find under the Kiriakis Mansion's Christmas tree. He had been most secretive about his desires this year, and Lucas was somewhat concerned about this development; most five-year-olds did not keep their avaricious thoughts to themselves. Will never had before, either. Will was all too aware, or so Sami said, that Lucas would buy him anything he asked for, and as a result he asked for everything. Lucas' cause for concern came not so much from his fear that he would be unable to please his son, because he could never buy Will too many stuffed animals or toy cars, as from his fear that Will wanted to ask Santa Claus for something that his parents could not or would not give him.  
  
Lucas was jerked back to reality when Will tugged on his sleeve with a soft, mittened hand.  
  
"Daddy, you weren't listening," he said in a nearly accusatory voice.  
  
"I'm sorry, Buddy, what is it?"  
  
"It's my turn! They'll skip me!" was the frantic reply.  
  
"They won't skip you. Just run up there. Do you want me with you?"  
  
"NO! You go wait with Mommy, and take pictures," the little boy commanded. He had obviously inherited that bossiness from his mother.  
  
Lucas wandered around the cotton-and-tinsel island which supported Santa Claus' throne and stood next to Sami. Will glanced over his shoulder to see that his orders had been obeyed and ran as quickly as he could to the all-powerful man in red. He could not afford to waste time taking a longer look at his mother and father standing next to each other, for once. Most of Will's friends had parents who laughed and joked together, who kissed each other and who sat together at school plays. Will's parents could not be in a room together without yelling at each other. Will did not know why they hated each other, or if they hated him because he was a part of them both. He only knew that he wanted the fighting to stop, and his all-consuming need to see and feel his parents together swamped his fear of the velvet-clad man before him.  
  
"Ho, ho, ho."  
  
Will said nothing.  
  
"Well, climb up on my lap. Are your Mommy and Daddy here with you?"  
  
"They're over there." Will pointed to the spot where Sami and Lucas stood glaring at one another because Sami had noted similarities between her son's stepmother and Santa Claus' laugh. Sami and Lucas recovered quickly enough to wave on cue. Santa and Will returned the gesture.  
  
"And what do you want for Christmas?" the man asked tiredly, hoping to move things along quickly. A hundred, a thousand children would sit on his lap before the day was over. Some would have siblings; some would cry; some would fight; some would kick. Still, work was work, and while this one was quiet, and seemed to have summoned all of his courage to come up here without his parents, he did not look as if he were about to burst into tears. The determined set of his chin, the shining eyes . . . he only had to bring the kid to his point before painlessly sending him back to his parents and getting on to the next one.  
  
Will thought that Santa looked tired. Maybe he should not state his request. No, he would not get another chance. This had to be it. "I want my Mommy and Daddy to love each other."  
  
The blood drained from the man's face beneath his fuzzy white beard. He had been told to expect a few requests like this, and had been asked to brush them off if possible, and to mention the request to the parents if possible. He looked again toward the man and woman at whom his latest charge had pointed. Now he noticed that they were very young, especially the woman. She almost certainly had not made it through high school before becoming a mother.  
  
The last time he had reported a situation like this, he had been roundly shouted at to mind his own business. He had no desire to go there. No matter what his trainer had said, some things were above and beyond the call of duty.  
  
"Be a good boy, and they will be." He hoped it wouldn't give the kid a complex. "Now, what's your name?"  
  
"Will."  
  
"Will. That's a nice name."  
  
"I was named after my Aunt Billie. She was named after Billie Holliday. I don't know who that is."  
  
The man almost chuckled. The kid was all right. His parents must not be so bad if he had turned out this well. Very polite for such a young one, and precocious, too.  
  
"You're sure they'll love each other?"  
  
"I'm sure. Now smile!"  
  
Will did as he was asked, and then climbed carefully down the stairs leading to the roped-off square of space where his parents stood, deep in conversation. Perhaps his wish was already coming true. He had expected to have to wait for Christmas morning.  
  
If Will had been able to hear his parents' discussion, he would have been sorely disappointed.  
  
"You know why he wanted to ask for something without us hearing, don't you?" scowled Lucas.  
  
Sami rolled her eyes. "Yes. He wants you to drop your tramp of a wife, not that I blame him, and marry me."  
  
"I'm glad you think this a joke, one more excuse to trash my wife! Your son is in for a very big disappointment, and all you can think of doing is calling his stepmother names!"  
  
"What else can I do? He's wanted us to be together since he knew what 'together' meant! We've told him that we both love him but we won't ever be a family that way. He'll outgrow it."  
  
"Like you outgrew it?"  
  
"That was different."  
  
"How?"  
  
"A million ways. And it doesn't matter. We won't be together. We've told him so. That's that."  
  
"It's pretty important. It's all he's asking for!"  
  
"Because you've bought him everything money can buy."  
  
"You would if you could."  
  
"I would not. I care about him too much to spoil him."  
  
Lucas raised an eyebrow.  
  
"I mean, more than a little bit."  
  
Their conversation was cut short when Will hopped down the last of the steps and took each of their hands.  
  
"Did you talk to Santa?" asked Sami.  
  
Will privately thought that that was a silly question, since she had been standing right there and knew that he had. Then he realized that it might be a test to see if he was really being a good boy. Good boys didn't lie. He smirked. This was almost too easy.  
  
"Yes. I told him what I wanted for Christmas."  
  
"Care to tell us?" asked Lucas.  
  
"You don't need to know. Only Santa does," Will said firmly. Then he added quickly, before his parents could open their mouths, "Can we all go get hot chocolate?"  
  
"We have to get home, Buddy," was his father's answer.  
  
"Can Mommy come?"  
  
Sami winced. She'd done this before, but it didn't get any easier with repetition. "You know I can't, Little Man." She gave her son a hug, and tried to beat the tears back from the surface of her blue eyes. "I love you."  
  
"I love you, too."  
  
Sami walked off swiftly, one tear falling down each cheek. She swiped them away, in part so they would not freeze to her face and part because she was furious that Lucas had custody of her baby and she did not.  
  
Lucas, for his part, picked Will up rather than drag him back the way they had come and headed for home. Once home, he wondered how he had managed that act. Will's feet barely touched the floor for the rest of the day as he flew from room to room of the mansion, singing Christmas carols and getting most of the words wrong, annoying Philip, and charming treats out of the cook. Lucas had thought he would wear himself out, but as the evening hours crawled on, Will was still dancing up and down the stairs and in and out of rooms.  
  
"Will, you have to get ready for bed."  
  
"I'm not tired."   
  
"No kidding," Lucas thought. The only thing worse than the prospect of getting Will to go to sleep that night was knowing why he was so happy, and knowing that he would be crushed come Christmas day, unless of course Sami had a miraculous change of heart. He probably needed a miraculous change of heart, himself. He told himself that he was the one being reasonable in this mess, but did reasonable people let their children's mothers go to the execution chamber for crimes they committed? Lucas forced that question out of his mind. He knew the answer, anyway. "You still have to go to bed."  
  
"You'll read me a story?"  
  
"Of course."  
  
"A Christmas story?"  
  
"I think we can do that."  
  
"Okay!"  
  
Will scampered upstairs, happy and cooperative. The pit in Lucas' stomach grew deeper. Perhaps he had been wrong about the reason for his son's mood. "Right," he said to himself. "Tell me another one." He filtered through Will's pile of golden books, and grabbed the first appropriate story he found, which happened to be Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer.   
  
The book was short, but Lucas found himself struggling to keep his own eyes open before he reached the final page. At least Will had stayed still long enough to allow his own wild expenditures of energy to catch up to him. His eyes were half-closed and his limbs were finally devoid of motion.  
  
"Good night," Lucas whispered.  
  
"Wait."  
  
"What?"  
  
"I like that story."  
  
"Good."  
  
"Wanna know why?"  
  
"I want you to go to sleep."  
  
"But wanna know why?"  
  
"Okay. Why?"  
  
"Before Rudolph leads the sleigh and everyone knows he's good, I like that his Mommy and Daddy protected him."  
  
"That's what Mommies and Daddies do. Your Mommy and I will always protect you."  
  
"And his friends."  
  
"Like your friend Toby."  
  
"Uh-huh. Like you and Mommy are friends." Will knew better, but he also knew his father would not deny his statement. Sometimes he liked to hear his parents tell him they cared about each other even though they did not. Soon, though, they would say it and mean it. Santa Claus had promised.  
  
Lucas left the room after a final "I love you" and gently shut the door. In a fog of nerves and love and mind-numbing tiredness, he made his way to his own room and crawled into his own bed. Nicole was nowhere to be found, but he didn't particularly care. It was better this way, really. He wanted his final thoughts before slipping into sleep to be of his son, not of his soon-to-be-ex-wife.  
  
Upon regaining consciousness, the first thing he noticed was the cold air. He was dressed warmly enough, but still, the chill was impossible to miss. Glancing around, he saw that he was alone in a forest of fir trees half-covered by drifts of snow. The situation did not seem unusual, but he knew that there was something he had to do.  
  
"Sami?" he called. The desperation in his voice matched the desperation he felt. Where was she? She was here somewhere. She had to be. He wouldn't let her run away anymore. She meant too much to him, and he had to make her understand that there were solutions. That her life would improve.  
  
On a whim, he approached a medium-sized blue spruce adorned with colorful pinecones and topped with a glittering star. He bent to look beneath it, and was somewhat surprised that the snowdrifts did not impede his movement. The lowest branches of the tree concealed a warm, glowing room, which Lucas entered as if he had been there a million times before. A bartender slipped him a drink with a winking smile, as if he were doing him some kind of favor. But Lucas turned away from the man as he spied the object of his quest.  
  
He would make her tell him the truth; no, she had told him the truth. He had to stop her father from going to the airport. He had to shake the teeth out of the man he had thought was his friend. Time collapsed on itself and he could see present and future as one. So many events were meshed together, none of them making much sense. His vision cleared and he spoke to her.  
  
"I thought I'd find you here."  
  
"I'll try to be more mysterious, then," she replied bitterly, looking at him from eyes the color of the ice he had seen outdoors. She had been crying. She was lucky the tears had not frozen to her face.  
  
"What's wrong? I mean, specifically?"  
  
"Everyone knows. Everyone says it was my fault."  
  
"It wasn't your fault. It wasn't, you know that, don't you?"  
  
"I thought so, but I just should have let it go. I hate this."  
  
"I hate it, too. It never should have happened. But it will get better. I promise. I'll take care of you. No one will hurt you."  
  
Fresh sobs threatened to overtake her. "For the rest of my life, anyone will be able to tell. It's as plain as the nose on my face."  
  
Lucas nearly smiled. "There's nothing wrong with your nose."  
  
"It has freckles."  
  
"They're cute," he replied in spite of himself, knowing that the last thing she needed was to be viewed in physical terms. He returned quickly, guiltily, to seriousness. "No one can tell. And of the people who know, anyone who thinks anything but that you were treated as less than you are, in a way no one should be treated, is a JERK."  
  
"In that case, most people are jerks."  
  
He did not know how to deny that statement. He even included himself in that category, sometimes. But he had done all he could to help her. And in his pocket was the tape, the tape that would, for lack of a more modern term, restore her honor.  
  
A voice cut across the room. "That's her. Salem's own Lorena Bobitt."  
  
"Don't get too close, Dash," another voiced warned with a sneer.  
  
"I wouldn't. But if you wanna come here, you can back me up. She can't get both of us."  
  
"What are your names?" Lucas demanded, interrupting in a tone of righteous outrage.  
  
"I'm Dash. That's Blitz. Who wants to know?"   
  
"I do, because after I have you thrown out of here I'm going to use all of my resources to make you suffer in any way I can. I hope you've paid all your parking tickets."  
  
Threats were exchanged, and Lucas had little trouble in banishing the pair. Still, the damage was done.  
  
"Let's get out of here, Sami." They returned to the pristine setting he had left, and somehow, their lips met. They fell to the soft snow and made love with only the trees and the stars as witnesses. Lucas had not expected this, but he could not summon up the slightest bit of regret now that he lay wrapped in her arms, basking in the warmth of her friendship, among other things. He had not had a life filled with too many friends, and never had he met anyone like her. She was so impulsive and passionate and opinionated and confident, but still naive and insecure and vulnerable. He wanted to protect her. Ordinarily, he knew he was selfish, but sometimes the woman-child beside him made him feel so . . . good that he needed to spend all of his time and energy and money to spare her pain.  
  
Oh, he would have done anything to take away the pain she had felt that day, and so many other days. But he hoped his presence was a balm for her wounds, and her presence was for his.   
  
The smile on his lips felt silly, and uncharacteristic, but he did not care. He did not care until Nicole asked if he was dreaming about her.  
  
"Nicole?" Did Nicole know this place? Something did not fit. He struggled to see her. He *knew * he had checked to see that Sami and he were alone. Sami? He looked down at her, but she had vanished. The snow had turned red with her blood! He had hurt her, hurt her again, when all he wanted to do was show her that he cared, that he would keep her from harm.  
  
He was more than a little relieved to realize that the red color came not from Sami's blood but from the silk sheets on his bed. He was more than a little annoyed that Nicole had broken through the barrier of warmth and comfort that he had not felt in his waking life for years. And he was more than a little frightened that he had mixed a children's story into his past with Sami; and not just their past, but a very specific event, an event he would have tried to forget had it not been for Will.  
  
"No, Nicole," he answered blearily. "I was not dreaming about you. I was dreaming about reindeer." It was the truth. Sort of.  
  
Nicole smirked in a disgusting way. "I didn't know you were into that."  
  
"Why did you come in here?"  
  
"I thought I might have left a necklace in that drawer. I knew you wouldn't mind if I woke you up. You get so much more sleep now that we don't live in the same room."  
  
"You've looked?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Then get out."  
  
"You're sure you don't want me to stay?"  
  
"All I want is to go back to sleep."  
  
Nicole left the room and Lucas lay back against his pillow. He would not have been able to fall back into his dream if he had wanted to, he was sure. He tried to organize his thoughts, but the only thought that seemed willing to come was the thought that wanted to turn the clock back to a time when friendship and love, and compassion and concern, did not occur only in a dream.  
  
"In Dreams: The 12 Days of Christmas"  
by Medea  
Part 2  
  
Date: December 15, 2000   
  
Sami forced herself to calm down as she stared at the pot on the kitchen stove. She had a right to be angry, and sad, and vengeful, but she did not have a right or a desire to take those feelings out on Brandon. Brandon had gone above and beyond the call of friendship almost since the day the two had met, and if had been in Brandon's power to return Will to Sami, she knew he would have done so.  
  
Still, Sami missed her son. It was a natural, expected feeling, but painful nonetheless. And as Christmas approached, she missed him all the more. She had envisioned celebrating so many Christmases with Will and Austin . . . but things did not always work out the way one planned. "Next year," she reminded herself. Next year she would have full custody of Will and she would be the one to tell him sweet stories of reindeer and help him leave sugar cookies for Santa-- assuming that Will still believed in Santa next year.  
  
Her anger was not entirely controlled as she grabbed two mugs- it should have been three- of hot chocolate and returned to the living room, where Brandon was staring pensively out the window. She crept up behind him, and slid an arm around his waist while handing him the drink.  
  
"What're you thinking about?"  
  
"You, Samantha. You're all I ever think about." His words were light, but his voice seemed pained.  
  
"Good thoughts?"  
  
"Always. But-- Samantha--" he turned to face her, abruptly breaking the contact. "Are you sure you don't resent me because I wasn't able to help you get custody of Will in Italy last fall?"  
  
Sami was floored. Resent him for crossing the world, for taking care of her, even saving her life? "Resent you?" she repeated incredulously. "Brandon, you put your life on hold for me. You've always done everything you could to make me feel good, even when we barely knew each other. You're so unselfish, and the best friend I've ever known. How could I ever RESENT you?"  
  
"You just said it. I've done everything I could, but it wasn't enough. It's supposed to be the happiest time of the year, and you're miserable. You hardly ever even smile, and I know, I *know* how much you love Will, I'm starting to think that you're also sorry you ended your relationship with Austin. Even when you were trying to be what you're not for him, you seemed happier than you are now." *With me* were the words he carefully left off of the end of his statement.  
  
"Austin still makes me happy, the same way he always did. AS MY FRIEND! You're the one who understands me. You're the one I understand, or try to. You're the one I want. You're the one I LOVE!" Sami's stomach lurched, and she wished she could take the words back. Telling a man she loved him and never worked out well for her. Even with past experiences aside, even while she felt a great deal of affection for Brandon, she did not feel right saying that she loved him. The words had always slipped easily off her tongue with Austin, but with Brandon there was a sense of obligation. He had done everything she had asked of him and more, and he never asked anything in return. She was acutely aware that she had not told him she loved him, and now she knew with abject certainty that she had had a reason not to do so.  
  
Brandon, however, reacted as she had hoped he would. The tension washed out of his features, and the warmth returned to his dark eyes. She wrapped her arms around him once again, and, the hot chocolate set aside and forgotten, the began to kiss, gently at first, then with more urgency. Sami had no idea to what the kisses might have led had not Brandon's beeper demanded that he go to the hospital. His patients came first, she understood. In fact, she was relieved to be alone. She needed more time to think about her speech. Telling Brandon that she did love him had convinced her that she did not.  
  
She did like him, though. She liked him a lot. And maybe she did love him. Just because she felt none of the passion for him that she had felt for Austin and even Franco did not meet she did not love him. Perhaps this was how it was in a real, adult relationship, where each person cared about the other.  
  
Boring.  
  
She corrected herself. Her adventure in Italy hadn't been boring. "No," she said aloud. "Our adventure wasn't boring. Our relationship is."  
  
She corrected herself once more. She had not been thinking of Brandon in terms of a love interest for very long. He had promised her many surprises during the holiday season, and she was looking forward to taking him to the party at the Brady Pub. When she'd gone to the annual party as a child, she had always watched with wonder as her aunts and uncles brought fiancés or friends into the circle of the family. Her grandfather had teased her that one day, she would bring a boyfriend, or a dozen, to the celebration. She was finally going to be able to make that vision come true.  
  
So many happy Christmas memories! The best ones were the earliest ones. Some of the only memories she had of Marlena before her mother's "death" were of running next door to Tom and Alice Horton's house with her and Eric and Carrie. The house had been filled with every kind of sweet thing she could imagine, and no one had refused the adorable bookend twins or their doting big sister a thing. She could remember being passed from arm to arm as if it were yesterday, even though she must have been younger then than her son was now.  
  
Then she had gotten older. The years of wanting the toy of the month, a Cabbage Patch doll or a pink My Little Pony; the trips to the woods to tap maple syrup; the class parties she had attended with Eric. Every year her class had gone to see The Nutcracker when a traveling troupe performed in Salem. Eric had hated every second of it, and ordinarily Sami would have agreed. "Culture," in her opinion, was highly over-rated, and the sole connoisseur of "culture" with whom she had had contact was one Stefano DiMera. But for that one day a year, Sami had been entranced by the brilliant costumes, the lavish Christmas tree set with its mounds of presents, and the adventure of a girl no older than she.  
  
Then she had gotten even older. Christmas lost its magic, and hit rock bottom the year she tried to sell her younger sister on the black market, only to be caught by John and Kristen seconds before success. Belle's safe return, the Christmas Miracle. Sami snorted to herself.  
  
Now she had Will to worry about. As much as it pained her to admit it, Lucas had been right the prior afternoon. Will believed that because he had asked Santa Claus to reconcile his parents, the deed was as good as done. How could she save her son's innocence?  
  
Deciding that thoughts of Will and Brandon would not be conducive to a good night's sleep, she allowed her mind to drift back to earlier, less complicated times. Not better times, as they were times before meeting her son and her best friend, but simpler times.  
  
She trudged up the winding but elaborately decorated staircase with the rest of her class. Sami's legs were a little bit too short to make climbing the steep steps comfortable, and she rolled her eyes when she noticed Eric and some of the other tall boys in her class showing off by taking them two at a time as their harried teacher tried to tell them to slow down without raising her voice. Eric was her twin, and one of her three favorite people in the world, but sometimes he could be such a *boy. *  
  
But neither Eric's childish behavior, nor the snide looks given to her class by the other patrons of the music hall, nor their snobbish comments about the necessity of needing handkerchiefs to sit in these seats tempered her glee. She liked being in the highest tier of the building where she could look at the golden chandeliers and sculptures that hung from the ceiling until the show began. She liked wearing a velvet dress-- for a little while, anyway.  
  
The lights dimmed, and the curtain rose to the ceiling below Sami. A pang of fear shot through her when she realized that the lights in her section of the theater were the only ones which had not been turned out entirely. Two men dressed in red were heading straight for her class, and she wondered if they were going to make good on her teacher's threat to make the troublemakers wait outside in the snow until the school bus arrived. If Eric went outside, she would have to go, too. Her eyes locked with his, and she felt his panic as well as her own.  
  
But the men walked not toward the whispering boys but toward Sami herself. Her stomach dropped, and she felt rather than saw Eric stand up, ready to protect her if need be.  
  
"Samantha Brady?"  
  
"Yes, sir?" she willed her voice not to shake.  
  
"We need you to come with us."  
  
"She isn't going anywhere!" Eric interrupted.  
  
"Are you the twin?"  
  
"Yeah, I'm 'the twin,'" Eric answered sarcastically, trying to sound the way his father or his Uncle Bo would have.  
  
The men exchanged a glance with the twins' teacher, who nodded, and, before either twin could prevent it, the two were pulled out of their seats and into a darkened back room. Eric pulled an arm free and managed to strike out at his captor. The man responded by twisting the boy's other arm until his knees buckled and he cried out in pain. Sami redoubled her efforts to free herself and succeeded for a brief moment, only long enough to reach Eric's side and ask if he was all right, before being thrown into a small, darkened room. Her captors and her brother followed her.  
  
"You know the story of the Nutcracker?" one man growled, rubbing his shin where Sami had kicked him.  
  
"Yes. What is this, a test?" Sami replied.  
  
"No. We need two children who can pass as brother and sister to take the place of Fritz and Clara today. Just for the first scene. You don't need to dance, only open presents."  
  
"Really?" asked Sami, suddenly delighted, while Eric answered "You can't make us." A silent battle of wills ensued, with Sami emerging victorious. She soon realized that she would not have had a choice in the matter anyway; their guards would only have hurt them to make them perform had they not done so willingly.   
  
The twins were half-prodded, half-led into yet another room, and Sami was surprised that she could not see the audience although the room looked exactly like it always had from her seat high above the stage. Somehow, she knew just what to do, and, on cue, her "godfather" mysteriously appeared and handed her a beautiful box containing a nutcracker resplendent in some kind of military uniform.   
  
Eric did not like seeing his twin get attention that he felt should be his. Sami and Eric were a unit, and had always been treated just alike. He reached for the toy and broke it. Sami felt that her whole world had been shattered.  
  
"Eric!" she cried. "Eric?"  
  
But Eric was gone.  
  
"ERIC! YOU CAN'T LEAVE ME! I'M SCARED! ERIC!"  
  
No one responded.  
  
"YOU'RE MY TWIN! YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE HERE FOR ME! I NEED YOU MORE THAN EVER! WHERE ARE YOU?"  
  
No one answered.  
  
"ERIC! ERIC!"  
  
She ran through the house, but it was empty. Large, Victorian, beautiful, abandoned, dusty, empty.  
  
"PLEASE! THIS ISN'T FUNNY!"  
  
A hand clapped her on her shoulder and whirled her around. But the blond hair and blue eyes she saw were not Eric's.  
  
"Alan?" the blood drained from her face, and she backed away.  
  
"No one will believe you if you tell them that, Sami."  
  
"It's the truth. You raped me."  
  
"I did not."  
  
"I said no."  
  
"Sure. And what about those pictures?"  
  
"I didn't think . . . I didn't know . . ."  
  
"A jury's gonna buy that. As long as I have them, I've got nothing to worry about. Even Carrie couldn't get them."  
  
Sami paled further. "That noise. That noise. Your apartment. You have Carrie!"  
  
He snickered. "I do, and I'm going to enjoy her."  
  
"You can't hurt Carrie!"  
  
"You can't stop me. You're all alone."  
  
Eric had faded to a dim memory. She was alone. Alan was right. Who would protect her, the nutcracker?  
  
"Get out of here, Harris." Lucas' voice echoed in the empty house.  
  
"Lucas, he has Carrie."  
  
"He just told you that. Carrie's fine."  
  
"But Lucas--"  
  
"She's fine. She's with Austin. I promise." Lucas ran a comforting hand down Sami's back before stepping toward Alan. "You hurt my friend," he accused.  
  
After one menacing glare from Lucas, Alan dissolved into thin air, but Sami still trembled. Lucas wrapped her into a hug, and although she craved the warmth and contact of his body, Sami had to push him away.  
  
"Where did you come from?"  
  
Lucas looked down at his uniform. "Military school."  
  
"That's not what I meant. Toys coming to life . . . is that possible?"  
  
"Lots of things are possible."  
  
Time stood still as Sami contemplated the man standing before her. She had had friends growing up, and she had had cousins and siblings close to her own age with whom she could play. None of them had been the least bit like Lucas. Lucas exuded a sneering self-confidence which, while annoying, still drew her to him.  
  
In part, she supposed, she was captivated by him because he presented the image she would have liked to be able to present. She had always been told she was impulsive, and she was quite capable of jumping into any situation and finding her way to her goal. Nonetheless, she wished she could look as if she knew what she was doing. She hated situations in which she was forced to end a conversation red-faced, mumbling "I knew that. I really did."  
  
On the other hand, she did not want to be a selfish loner who belonged to no one. She was willing to go to great lengths to get things that she deserved, but that was not the same as being selfish. Lucas cared for no one, and she cared for many people. Maybe she cared too much, and that was why it hurt so much when they left her.  
  
Lucas had not left her, though. He was right there, standing frozen in front of her. Perhaps he was not all selfish, after all. And some selfishness was not a bad thing. How would she have been able to stand him if he had been perfect? Sami had a perfect older sister, and one perfect person in her life was enough. Lucas' flaws were all that convinced her that he was real, and not just her toy imagined into life. Most girls who grew up in working class families in small midwestern towns did not suddenly meet rich, handsome, extravagant, young men, see eye-to-eye with them, and form intense friendships.  
  
"Lucas?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Thanks."   
  
He didn't look like he was entirely comfortable with her thank-you, and she wanted to ask him why. She was not sure that she asked him aloud, but he answered anyway.  
  
"I was the one who introduced you to Alan."  
  
"So? I was the one who kept going with him after everyone told me not to."  
  
"That doesn't make this your fault."  
  
"It makes it Alan's fault."  
  
"But for the rest of your life, you're going to remember--"  
  
"I'm going to remember how much you cared for me even if you don't admit it. I'm going to remember you saving me." Lucas began to look almost as if he might be convinced of that. "You're a good friend."  
  
"Thanks."  
  
"You're welcome. I really mean it. I would miss you so much if you weren't around." She was disgusted when she noticed that Lucas was no longer paying rapt attention to her. Then she followed his gaze. "What . . ."  
  
"Neither one of us will be around to miss the other one if we don't do something about that."  
  
"But what can we do? I ran all around the house. The windows are all locked and frosted over. There aren't any real doors-- they're just painted on."  
  
"We'll think of something. Come on. We can buy some time by going upstairs." They scrambled up the wooden staircase and watched the scene below from the landing.  
  
"They're rats," Sami bluntly observed. "An army of rats."  
  
"Are you afraid of rats?"  
  
"Not ordinary ones. But I think maybe we should be afraid of those."  
  
"So do I. But just because they're bigger than we are, and they're armed to the teeth, that doesn't mean we can't beat them. Are you with me?"  
  
She nodded firmly. "We're an unbeatable team." But even as she said those words, she could feel a shadow of doubt cross her face.  
  
"This is NOT the time to have second thoughts."  
  
Sami only stared at Lucas. "You aren't real."  
  
"Of course I'm real. What's not real about me?"  
  
"This feels wrong. Like a dream."  
  
He snapped his fingers. "A dream! That must be it! Sami, you have to dream up . . . dream up a cat!"  
  
"A cat? That won't help. They'll know it's not real."  
  
"They won't if you do it right! Did Austin know you weren't really sick all those times you got him to stay home from work and spend time with you? Did he know you weren't in danger when you said Alan was chasing you the first few times?"  
  
"No . . ."  
  
He knelt before her, looking earnestly into her eyes. "Are you saying you think these rats are smarter than Austin?"  
  
"Of course not."  
  
Lucas repositioned himself and wrapped his arms around Sami. "Come on. Think," he whispered in her ear as the rats finally caught their scent and began to climb the stairs, slowly, steadily.  
  
Suddenly, a coal-black cat appeared from behind the tree and bore down swiftly upon the rats. They vanished from sight, running through the walls of the house, which re-closed behind them and the cat, who was still in hot pursuit.  
  
Lucas swept Sami up into a congratulatory hug. "You did it!"  
  
"We did it!"  
  
"We did it. Care to celebrate?" He jokingly carried her down the stairs and returned her to her original pose underneath the Christmas tree. From the earlier party, he procured two glasses and a bottle of champagne, and they toasted each other again and again. They toasted teamwork, and friendship, and victory, as they laughed and recounted their adventure.  
  
Sami reached toward her friend to toast him once more when she felt herself being pulled backwards.  
  
"Lucas? Lucas, help!"  
  
He shook his head sadly. "I can't help you with this."  
  
"I don't want to go. I don't want this to end!"  
  
"I don't, either. But we can't always have what we want. It took us long enough to learn that, didn't it?"  
  
Sami struggled to get back to Lucas, but to no avail. He was gone, and she lay flat on her back on her living room couch. The warmth of her dream still clung to her as her eyes sought the digital readout on the VCR. It was three in the morning. She should go into her bedroom, and maybe she would have another nice dream . . .  
  
Nice? Had she really been dreaming about LUCAS? Sami reached for her lamp, nearly knocking it over in her attempt to turn it on. As light spilled into the room, she saw the picture of Brandon and her that she had recently set on the coffee table.   
  
"My best friend," she whispered. "The best friend I ever had."  
  
"In Dreams: The 12 Days of Christmas"  
by Medea  
Part 3  
  
Date: December 16, 2000   
  
Lucas gnashed his teeth in annoyance and resignation. He loved his son Will with all his heart, and his paternal instincts had been out in full force for the past few days, since Will had made it obvious that he believed he would receive the sole gift that no one could give him.  
  
And because of his own anxiety, Lucas found himself dreading Will's nightly bedtime story. Two nights ago, the little boy had made an innocent comment which had nonetheless resulted in his father's experiencing a most disconcerting dream. Lucas would have to keep his subconscious from taking over on this night. He could not decide which feeling had been the most unpleasant: the fear when he had been unable to find Sami; the horror when he'd seen her blood; the melancholy when he'd realized that their friendship had dissipated years ago; the dehumanization of Nicole's comments when she'd seen the expression on his face.  
  
"Did you decide which story you wanted to hear, Buddy?" he called in the general direction of his son's room.  
  
"Frosty!" was the joyful response. Lucas rolled his eyes. His mother had given Will a video of the cartoon version of Frosty the Snowman, and Will had watched it several times that day. Thus, the video was one of very few of Kate's recent gifts which Lucas allowed his son to keep. He was slowly but surely distancing Will from Kate; Kate had tried to use Will to drive Sami insane, and Lucas no longer felt comfortable with Kate's having a large role in his life.  
  
So Lucas steeled himself to tell Will the story of the magical snowman whose life was saved by the children who created him. Will went to sleep fairly easily, for once, and Lucas spent a few solitary but productive hours in the Kiriakis living room with a pile of folders that had migrated there from Titan Industries.  
  
Children's stories and his inane subconscious responses to them were the farthest things from his mind as he returned to his own room and his own bed. He closed his eyes and fell into what he was sure would be a deep, dreamless sleep.  
  
He was wrong.  
  
Lucas paced around Johnny Angel's, hoping to stay out of sight of Austin and Carrie, who were window shopping nearby. A waitress glanced at him, probably wondering why he didn't just sit down. He could hardly explain that if he stayed still on one of the high stools, it would become painfully obvious that he was spying on the adorable young couple looking at children's toys, in all likelihood Christmas presents for their youngest siblings. At least they did not yet have a child of their own to shop for. For that small miracle, Lucas was intensely grateful.  
  
However, he was still angry that the two were together at all. Hours before, he had been sure that each would be making plans to spend the holidays alone. Of course, in the end he would have been there to comfort a lonely Carrie, and Sami would have done the same for Austin. But the two had exchanged awkward "hellos" when they had met by chance in Salem Place, and now they were laughing and talking freely. If one happened to breach the topic that they had thus far talked around, well, the game would be over and Sami and Lucas would be in hot water.  
  
At long last, Sami strolled around the corner of the building and took her place next to Lucas. "How bad is it?" she asked.  
  
"What took you so long?" responded a surly Lucas.  
  
"I saw my aunt and uncle and it would have looked like I was snubbing them if I hadn't said hello."  
  
"You snub the rest of your family often enough. Why not them?"  
  
"Stop snapping at me. This isn't my fault."  
  
"It's not? You said you had this great plan."  
  
"I didn't see you coming up with anything else. And you've been here just watching them when you could have done something to make them stop. Instead, you just called me. Why don't you do something for yourself once in a while?"  
  
"I've done just as much as you have. I've done too much to stop now."  
  
"Well?"  
  
"I don't KNOW what to do now. This was your plan and I thought you'd know what to do."  
  
"Okay, fine. What exactly went wrong?"  
  
Lucas gestured vaguely toward the ever-more-friendly Austin and Carrie. "Look."  
  
"How long have they been together?"  
  
"Almost half an hour. They were both looking in the toy store, I guess because of Belle and Philip, and they started talking. They've been getting closer and looser with each other ever since."  
  
"That's all?"  
  
"What do you mean, 'that's all?' All they have to do is compare notes and they'll know they're being manipulated."  
  
"They won't compare notes. They're scared."  
  
"You think one can't tell when the other's scared? Before we know it, they'll have everything figured out and we'll be out of luck."  
  
"No, we won't. Not unless Frosty tells them the truth. And he won't."  
  
"He felt guilty as soon as he did it. I think he will."  
  
"So we'll turn a hose on his sorry top hat."  
  
"Sami! That's murder."  
  
Sami shrugged. "You wanted me to think of something."  
  
"I should have known better. Your last brilliant idea was to find some magic snow and make a talking, dancing snow man that would tell Carrie that her fiancé was cheating on her and that if she went near him to confront him he'd kill him, and then do the same with Austin."  
  
"And it worked! You've been happy as a clam since we made Frosty and he did his job."  
  
"It's so *stupid.* What was I thinking, listening to you?"  
  
"You were thinking that you didn't have a better idea. And this will still work. If you suddenly met a talking snow man, wouldn't you do whatever it told you to do?"  
  
"No, not after seeing how you make them. Are you sure Carrie doesn't know about the magic snow?"  
  
"Yes! I told you, only I know. And now you. So you'd better keep it a secret."  
  
"Relax. Don't I always keep your secrets?"  
  
"Only because half the time they're your secrets, too."  
  
"Good a reason as any."  
  
They watched Carrie and Austin in silence until and unmistakable figure came lumbering toward them. Lucas was on his feet instantly, and he crossed the mall in swift strides, shoving the cool, wet snowman behind a building.  
  
"What are you doing? I told you to lie low. If everyone in Salem Place sees a dancing snowman, Austin and Carrie won't be so worried."  
  
"I don't care if Austin and Carrie are worried. If I did, I would want them not to be worried. I don't like it when people are unhappy."  
  
Lucas rolled his eyes. Sami had warned him that snow people got progressively less simple as they aged, but reasoning with this one still reminded him of reasoning with a two-year-old. "I don't really care what you like," he responded distinctly. "I created you. You do what I tell you to do."  
  
"But it's wrong!" the round, white man blurted out. "It's not fair that you created me only to serve you, and that you act like you hate me and want to make me hate myself. It's horrible knowing that your parents don't care about you, and they only made you for selfish reasons. I'm going to tell Austin and Carrie the truth right now!"  
  
He began to trundle off once more, but a slow-arriving Sami swiftly grabbed his arm and turned his head to her. She adopted a fake-sympathetic expression at the sight of her creation's frozen tears.  
  
"Frosty," Sami soothed in a voice that Lucas recognized as dripping with sarcasm but Frosty did not, "Lucas and I love you very much. We wouldn't want you to do anything you don't want to do."  
  
"But he said . . ."  
  
"If he sounded mean to you, it's just because he was nervous. We met today to decide how to tell you, and when you came over before we were finished talking, we both panicked a little bit."  
  
"Tell me-- tell me what?"  
  
Sami sighed theatrically. "It's hard for me to say this, okay? So if the words don't really come out right . . ." she bit her lip as her voice trailed off.  
  
"Sami, what's wrong?"  
  
"Lucas and I could hardly believe it when we saw the newspaper. We kept looking at it, and each other, thinking it couldn't be true. But . . . I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry." A tear appeared at the corner of Sami's eye. "There's going to be a heat wave. Even though it's a few days before Christmas, the temperature is going to be close to seventy. Frosty, it isn't safe for you here. You only have a few options. You can get out of town, go North . . . or you can stay here and . . ." her voice dropped to a pained whisper "melt."  
  
"Melt?" Lucas could have sworn that the snow man's white face grew whiter. "I'm too young to melt." Sami had really gotten going by now, and tears rolled down her cheeks as she nodded.  
  
"That's what we thought, too, Frosty. So I'm going to buy you a ticket at the train station, and we'll get you to the North Pole. It stays cold all year there, and you'll be safe."  
  
"But I'll miss you," whispered Frosty, his earlier anger forgotten.  
  
"I'll miss you, too," Lucas answered tightly, before dashing off toward the train station. He was afraid that of he stayed there a moment longer, his true feelings would become obvious even to that stupid snowman. So he could not help but admire Sami, who had managed to look utterly sincere and convincing as she told Frosty of her fiendish plan-- and got him to thank her for it! He knew that, not-so-deep down, Sami agreed with him. She had little tolerance for someone as easily manipulated as their snowman. No, she knew how to fight and expected others to do the same, as he did. That was part of his reason for liking her so much.  
  
He had never told her in so many words that he liked her, but his actions certainly should have clued her in. He spent much more time with her than their "business" arrangements necessitated, and he had always been willing to drop whatever he was doing and help or comfort her.   
  
Lucas handed a credit card to the agent manning the ticket station, and hastened back to Frosty. He then returned to Sami, who was by then gritting her teeth. No doubt they hurt from listening to the ramblings of their saccharine snow creation.  
  
"There's been a change of plans," she explained as he forced the ticket into Frosty's mitten. Why hadn't they come up with a better name than Frosty? Sami had thought it was funny because it described her sister's demeanor, and Lucas had indulged her.  
  
"What?" he asked as innocuously as he could.  
  
"Frosty wants to say good-bye to us. So we're going to travel part way with him."  
  
"We are?"  
  
"We are!"  
  
"I have a meeting--"  
  
"This is more important."  
  
Sami left her partner no room for argument, so two more tickets were purchased. Lucas grumbled under his breath all the while because a snowman could not travel first class. In addition to the humiliation of traveling in a refrigerator car, it was, well, refrigerated. The cold crept into Lucas' bones after just an hour of travel, and he was plotting an excuse when he noticed the grim determination mixed with discomfort on Sami's face. He sighed inwardly. If she could do it, he certainly could as well.  
  
In spite of himself, Lucas began to feel that watching Sami's affliction was worse than feeling his own, and he moved to sit beside her, slipping out of his coat and using it to cover both of them. The flash of gratitude in her eyes warmed him more than the heat of her body.  
  
After another nauseating good-bye, Sami and Lucas prepared to return to Salem, only to find that while wishing Frosty well, they had missed the last train. Lucas held up one hand to stop Sami's impending protests and reached for his cell phone with the other. "Hello, Henderson?" he asked after hitting the speed dial. "It's me. I'm at the North Pole. Can you send the Titan Sleigh to meet me? Thanks." He hung up. "It'll be here soon," he assured Sami.  
  
"Thanks. Sometimes you're pretty useful."  
  
"Really! That's the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me. You've made my day, Sami."  
  
She was saved from response by the arrival of the Titan Sleigh, drawn by no fewer than eight tiny reindeer.  
  
"Do they have names?" asked Sami, more enchanted than Lucas had expected her to be.  
  
"Sure. That's Dasher and Dancer, and Prancer and Vixen, and Comet and Cupid, and Donder and Blitzen."  
  
"No Rudolph?"  
  
"That was in my last dream."  
  
"Dream?"  
  
The world around them suddenly wavered. "NO!" shouted Lucas.  
  
"Lucas? What's wrong?"  
  
The touch of Sami's hand on his arm was reassuring, and Lucas' world returned to normal. They jumped into the sleigh together and headed for home, with Sami cooing at Vixen, her instant favorite among the reindeer, and both of them laughing and talking happily.  
  
Lucas awoke feeling warm and relaxed.  
  
And utterly heartbroken that it had been a dream.  
  
And utterly disturbed.  
  
  
"In Dreams: The 12 Days of Christmas"  
by Medea  
Part 4  
  
Date: December 17, 2000  
  
Lucas paced the length of his office, turned on his heel, and stalked back the way he had come. His feet barely touched the ground as he fell into his rhythm. He found himself completely unable to concentrate on the work laid out on his desk.  
  
"Come on, do it," he commanded himself aloud, hopefully in a low enough voice that no one who happened to be roaming the halls would be able to overhear him. Still, his mind refused to focus, and his limbs continued to move of their own accord. "Sit down," he reiterated, nearly frightened by the amount of work he had allowed to pile up but nonetheless intensely grateful that he had no meetings today. A meeting with clients would lose business for Titan; an internal meeting would cost him his job. Well, perhaps not, but he would not blame Victor for firing him at this point. He had made several stupid mistakes while doing routine paperwork today. Some he had caught himself, but some had needed the corrective skills of his annoyed co-workers.  
  
He noticed that he had not blinked for an usually long period of time, and forced his eyelids down. The simple action burned, and when he opened his eyes once more, he caught a glimpse of his reflection in the window. Even this imperfect reproduction of his image sported dark circles under its eyes and a tense, anxious face.  
  
And why was he anxious? Because he was afraid to read a bedtime story to his son! Of all things . . . but he was dreading his return to the Kiriakis Mansion, and dreading seeing Will's face. He loved Will with every fiber of his being, naturally; that was why he so feared Will's happiness. He knew it would be short-lived, and there was not a damn thing he could do to remedy the situation. And, in a less selfless vein, he was frightened to sleep. The dreams of Will's mother that had begun to plague him since the advent of Will's newfound obsession with his parents' relationship were becoming a real problem. He felt constantly agitated and distracted.  
  
The stark reality of the situation was that he was not emotionally capable of taking care of his son tonight. So Lucas began to favor his last resort: he could call Sami. Of course, he *never* felt physically, mentally, or emotionally capable of dealing with that woman. But he could do it.  
  
This decision made Lucas feel a little bit better. Now he had a plan.  
  
He punched the number to Sami's apartment into his phone, not bothering to sit down as he did so. Stupid corded phone. Didn't allow him to keep pacing. Who had corded phones in this day and age, anyway?  
  
Ring-ring. Ring-ring. Ring-ring. Ring-ring. "Hi, this is Sami. I'm not here right now, but--" Lucas hung up. Was she actually at work? He fumbled for his rolodex. He had the hospital's phone number, and the nurses' station extension around here somewhere.  
  
Finding the desired card, he pounded the numbers into the phone with more force than could possibly have been necessary.  
  
"Nurses' station."  
  
"Sami, it's me."  
  
"Excuse me? Who is this?"  
  
"You know damn well who!"  
  
"Oh, I'm sorry. I don't recognize your voice when you don't sound angry and obnoxious."  
  
"Have you ever thought that it might be a good idea to be civil to me when I call you? I mean, you know I love you just about as much as you love me, so if you had the sense of the counter you're standing behind you'd know that I wouldn't be disturbing you if it wasn't about--"  
  
"What happened to Will?"  
  
"Nothing."  
  
"You-- Lucas Roberts, tell me what happened to my son and tell me right now!"  
  
"Nothing happened."  
  
"Then why are you calling? You jerk, you just said--"  
  
"I said it was ABOUT Will. I didn't say anything was wrong."  
  
"But you didn't just call to chat."  
  
"Of course not. I called to say I have a meeting that might go all night and I wanted to know if you wanted to take Will."  
  
"Oh." Her voice changed markedly, from combative to something akin to wistful. "Where and when?"  
  
Some of Lucas' earlier mood dissipated. In a most vindictive way, he enjoyed having Sami at his mercy. "Head over to the Mansion whenever you want. I'll call Henderson and let him know it's all right." He somehow heard the disgusted expression on Sami's face, and, although he knew no good could come of such a query, asked "What?"  
  
"It's just bizarre, all right? That you have to call a butler to tell him that it's *okay* for a little boy to go somewhere with his mother."  
  
"Quit complaining or I won't make the call."  
  
"One of these days, I'll be able to repay you for this."   
  
"Keep talking. Just keep talking."  
  
"I thought you didn't like to talk to me."  
  
"I don't. Talk to yourself. Hang up."  
  
"You hang up."  
  
"You first, if you want your son."  
  
"This is the stupidest excuse for a power play I've ever heard of."  
  
"And yet you're taking part in it."  
  
The slam of the phone made Lucas' ear ring painfully. Still, he hit the button that would connect him to the Kiriakis Mansion. One night's rest was all he needed. He would take some sleeping pills to tame his anxiety-- something he was afraid to do when his son was nearby and might need him at any given moment. Giving in to Sami's desire to have a night with her son would be pure, unadulterated relief.  
  
********  
  
Sami could not remove the silly grin from her face as she watched her son chase a toy truck around her apartment. "This," she thought, "is how it's supposed to be." No one but her son to keep her company. Oh, she supposed that she would crave adult companionship, specifically adult male companionship, if she were denied it, but she was not. Will was the missing piece in her life right now-- and it was an incredible burden that the missing piece was the largest, most integral piece, the piece without which the rest of the puzzle lost its meaning.  
  
"Hey, Little Man," she called despite her desire to continue to drink in the scene before her. "It's time to get into bed."  
  
"I'm not tired."  
  
"You have to go to bed anyway."  
  
"That's what Daddy always says." Sami rolled her eyes. She wondered if Lucas had really been putting a good deal of effort into getting their-- she cringed at the word "their"-- son into bed at a reasonable hour, or if this was another of her son's plans to hint that he wanted his parents to end their estrangement.  
  
"Well, Daddy is right." For once in his miserable life.  
  
"You're going to read me a story?"  
  
"Sure. Which one?"  
  
"A Christmas one."  
  
"Rudolph?"  
  
"Read that."  
  
"Frosty?"  
  
"Read that."  
  
"The night before Christmas?"  
  
"Read that."  
  
"Santa's workshop?"  
  
"Read that."  
  
"What haven't you read?"  
  
"I don't know. Daddy always finds a new one." Sami begrudgingly had to admire Lucas for dealing with this night after night-- although she would have given anything to be the one to "deal with" it.   
  
"Well, if Daddy can, I can, too. Get in bed and I'll come in with a book in a minute." Will bounced out of the room, and Sami dragged herself into her bedroom to drag the crate of children's books she had rescued during one of her father's housecleaning sessions out of her closet. Most of the books in here were for children older than Will, and while she wanted Will to have them some day, she had kept them nearby because they had been personal favorites of hers, or Carrie's, or Eric's.  
  
She decided that her best bet would be to take a Christmas chapter from one of the Laura Ingalls Wilder books. Will wasn't very much too young for one of these, and she held some affection for the stories since both she and Laura had been stuck with perfect older sisters.  
  
Sami found Will already in bed and eagerly awaiting his entertainment, so she began to read.  
  
"'Do you know what Pa wants for Christmas?' Ma asked. They did not know. 'Horses,' Ma said. 'Would you girls like horses?' Laura and Mary looked at each other. 'I only thought,' Ma went on, 'that if we all wished for horses, and nothing but horses, then maybe--' Laura felt queer. Horses were everyday; they were not Christmas. If Pa got horses, he would trade for them. Laura could not think of Santa Claus and horses at the same time. 'Ma!' she cried. 'There IS a Santa Claus, isn't there?' 'Of course there's a Santa Claus,' said Ma. She set the iron on the stove to heat again. 'The older you are, the more you know about Santa Claus,' she said. 'You are so big now, you know he can't be just one man, don't you? You know he is everywhere on Christmas Eve. He is in the Big Woods, and in Indian Territory, and far away in York State, and here. He comes down all the chimneys at the same time. You know that, don't you?' 'Yes, Ma,' said Mary and Laura. 'Well,' said Ma, 'Then you see--' 'I guess he is like angels,' Mary said slowly. And Laura could see that, just as well as Mary could. Then Ma told them something else about Santa Claus. He was everywhere, and besides that, he was all the time. Whenever anyone was unselfish, that was Santa Claus. Christmas Eve was the one time when everybody was unselfish. On that one night, Santa Claus was everywhere, because everybody, all together, stopped being selfish and wanted other people to be happy. And in the morning, you saw what that had done . . ."  
  
The story continued, and sure enough, because Mary and Laura asked for nothing for Christmas because they wanted their father to be happy, they still found candy in their stockings on Christmas morning.  
  
Sami was surprised to find Will still blinking sleepily when the tale had run its course. It was a long story, and rather didactic for a child Will's age.  
  
"Still awake, Little Man?"  
  
"I wanted to see what happened."  
  
"Did you like it?"  
  
"Kind of. I knew they'd still get presents." Sami bit back a snicker. She'd known that the first time she'd read the story, too. "But I think they really wanted their Daddy to be happy. I wish you and Daddy were happy."  
  
"We are happy, Will. We have you. You're all we need to make us happy."  
  
"You'd be happier..." Will did not finish his sentence before drifting off to sleep, but Sami was all to aware of what her son's thought had been. Her heart broke for him. She had gone down the path Will was on herself, and in the end she had only caused herself more trouble. But she had been much older than Will at the time; how could a five-year-old be expected to manage something like this? Tears filled her eyes as she kissed her son goodnight and left the room.  
  
Why couldn't Will set his heart on something she could give him? She did not expect to sleep while she imagined her son's inevitable, unpreventable heartbreak come Christmas. Instead, although she put herself to bed a few hours later, she thought about the best way to combat the disappointment when it occurred. Would things be better or worse if she and Lucas gritted their teeth and spent the day together? This question swirled around and around in her mind as she drifted into unconsciousness.  
  
Lucas came up behind her and grabbed her shoulder, spinning her around to face him.  
  
"What are you doing here?" she asked. She hadn't expected to see him.  
  
"I live here. What are you doing here?"  
  
"Visiting Austin, of course. He has to see his son."  
  
Lucas smirked. "Keep going, Sami."  
  
"I intend to."  
  
"I know it. But we have to talk."  
  
"What's up?"  
  
"Come up to my bedroom."  
  
"What kind of girl do you think I am?"  
  
"Oh, you wish."  
  
"Trust me, I don't."  
  
Their snide remarks held no bite, however; they were only the semi-mandatory insults that passed as banter between close friends. Once inside his locked bedroom, though, Lucas became serious.  
  
"It's about Will. And Austin and Carrie and everyone, actually."  
  
"Well?"  
  
"It's Victor's stroke. Mom thinks that if he gets horses for Christmas, he'll recover."  
  
"He must have at least a dozen horses in the stable."  
  
"He does. These are special horses. Christmas horses, or something."  
  
"So? Your Mom's in control of Titan. Why doesn't she just buy them?"  
  
"They can't be bought with Titan money. It's some kind of rule. They have to be bought with the Christmas budget. Henderson's in charge of that. And he won't budge on it."  
  
"Can't your Mom control him?"  
  
"There's no controlling Henderson when he gets this way."  
  
"And the Christmas budget isn't enough to buy these magical horses?" Sami could not keep the scoff from her voice.  
  
"Sami, I know you don't like my Mom, but it means a lot to me. Victor's the closest thing to a father I've ever had."  
  
"I know, I know. You didn't answer my question."  
  
"There's just enough money to buy one horse. No second horse, and no presents for anyone else. That means Will won't be getting spoiled this year."  
  
"He doesn't have to be spoiled. He won't remember this Christmas when he grows up, anyway. The important thing is that he spend time with his father and mother." Lucas' smirk grew to match her own. "And you will comfort my dear sister when she's deprived of Austin for a while, won't you?"  
  
"It would be the least I could do." The smirk grew to demonic proportions.  
  
"So that was all you brought me here for? To warn me about the presents?"  
  
"That, and to see if you thought you could come up with some way to get the second horse."  
  
"Scheme for Kate and Victor?"  
  
"Scheme for me. With me. Keep your skills sharp. Make it look like you're a good person."  
  
"I AM a good person."  
  
"I know that. But some other people in town sometimes doubt you, and your credibility. You wouldn't have that problem if you did something this selfless."  
  
Sami gathered herself up. "All right. When do we start?"  
  
Lucas grinned, a half-obnoxious smirk, half-genuine warm smile. "How about now?"  
  
Before long, the two, with Will in tow, were on their way to the farm at which the horses in question were bred. However, the day was long and frustrating. Security was tight (Sami privately wondered why more Salem businesses did not take such precautions) and they could not seem to come up with an angle to encourage the owners to drop their price. The demand for magical horses was high, it seemed.  
  
As the automatically locking door shut behind them, their eyes locked as one on the small red box labeled "fire alarm."  
  
Sami lifted Will to her shoulder and encouraged him to make faces at the security camera that guarded the alarm. While the camera was thus blocked, Lucas slipped behind them and pulled the lever.  
  
They ran outside with everyone else, being careful to come from opposite directions so that everyone could overhear the story of how Will had been fussing and Sami had become separated from Lucas when she stepped outside with her baby.  
  
"Now what?" she whispered when they were alone. "We aren't going to steal a horse!"  
  
"No. Can you get over to that hay in all this commotion?"  
  
"Sure."  
  
He pulled a lighter from his pocket. "You know what to do."  
  
"That's...."  
  
"It's nothing. The firetrucks are already on their way."  
  
"But--"  
  
"I'll be the only one brave enough to go through the smoke and save the horses. They'll want to show their gratitude."  
  
"We can't get enough smoke and fire quickly enough. Not without gasoline or something."  
  
Lucas' eyes strayed to a red plastic container lying beside a parked pickup truck.  
  
"No! No, Lucas, it's too dangerous."  
  
"We can do it. We just have to trust each other. If I get in there NOW, I'll have enough time to get out before the explosion."  
  
"Lucas--"  
  
"Yes. We can do this."  
  
Against her better judgment, Sami ran to the truck and took the red jug. She sprinkled its contents on a few bales of hay, and then lit a bale that sat a few feet away. Then she turned and ran, saying a silent prayer for Lucas.  
  
The explosion jarred her even though she had been expecting it and had braced herself far across the field. "Lucas . . ." she whispered. Why had she let him talk her into this?  
  
And then she saw him. Carefully handling a horse; the others were being calmed by employees of the farm. He caught Sami's eye and mouthed one word. "Yes."  
  
The firetrucks came, and so did the media. And so did Christmas.  
  
Sami awoke alone in her apartment. She would take Will to see his father, and Victor's hard-earned new horses, as soon as she had fed him his breakfast.  
  
She was startled by a sound outside her window. A familiar figure-- Santa Claus?  
  
She opened the window. "Lucas?" she whispered.  
  
"Ho, ho, ho," he replied. Then he murmured under his breath that Will deserved this much of a Christmas celebration.  
  
Sami smiled.  
  
The smile faded when she woke up and recalled, for the second time in three nights, that she had dreamed of her son's father.  
  
  
"In Dreams: The 12 Days of Christmas"  
by Medea  
Part 5  
  
Note: The passage of the novel quoted in this chapter is censored. The censoring is done by Lucas, not me, because Will is too young to hear the real version.  
  
Date: December 18, 2000  
  
Sami stood in front of her mirror and carefully tried to un-do the damage a sleepless night had done to her appearance. She needed to remove the circles under her eyes; if Lucas came to pick Will up and saw her obvious exhaustion, well, he would have one more thing to smirk about. He'd say that she could not handle caring for her own son, that the stress of being a single mother was too much for her, that Will's best interests would be served by seeing her rarely if ever.  
  
And oh, how he would react if he knew that she was tired not because of Will, who had been no less than an angel, but because she had been too nervous and upset to return to sleep after her dream-- her dream about Lucas.  
  
Long ago, she would have told him about the dream; it would have been good for a laugh. But their friendship was dead, never to be resurrected, and the enmity that remained was made all the more bitter by the past history which both pretended to forget. So if Lucas were to find out that she couldn't forget, that Will's presence reminded her of him in a way that was slightly less than entirely negative . . . .  
  
A knock sounded on the door and she cringed inwardly. It was time to face her fate.  
  
She was relieved to find not Lucas, but his younger half-brother Philip standing in the doorway. "Lucas sent me to pick Will up," he offered by way of explanation.  
  
"How much did he pay you?" asked Sami before she could help herself.   
  
Philip seemed unaffected by the question. "Forty bucks. He said I'd need it whether or not my parents get me a car for Christmas." Sami had been stuck on the word "forty." She took the opportunity to feel inwardly superior, knowing that she could have gotten Belle to run such an errand for her for free. Of course, she would never ask Belle to pick Will up, because every moment she could spend with her son was precious. Her always-barely-suppressed ire rose in her throat. Lucas valued his time with his son so little that he could send his brat of a teenage brother to do his job without batting an eye? She forgot her earlier relief at not seeing Lucas and concentrated on her righteous indignation. Then she changed her mind again and concentrated on the opportunity at hand.  
  
"Since Lucas is obviously too busy today to pick his son up," she began as sweetly as she could, "you could leave him here for a few more hours. That would get you out of your baby-sitting duties, and I could drop Will off before Lucas gets home."  
  
Philip smiled to himself. He had been warned about this. Lucas actually had no pressing business at Titan today; he tried to keep his schedule light during all of Will's egregiously long Christmas vacation. Philip himself only had this morning off from school because of parent-teacher conferences. "Sorry, Sami. Lucas said to take him home right away. Do not pass 'go,' do not collect two hundred dollars."  
  
"Or forty."  
  
"Or forty."  
  
Sami swallowed a sigh. "Will?" she called out. "Your Uncle Philip's here to take you ho-- back to your father's house."  
  
"Coming, Mommy." Will skipped into the room, but saddened about halfway to his destination. "I don't want to go, Mommy. I love you."  
  
Sami felt sick, and she noticed that even Philip seemed to feel a bit of sympathy for his nephew. "I don't want you to go either, Little Man, and I love you, too. I love you so much," she told him with more passion than she had intended.  
  
"Then I won't go."  
  
"You have to. I'm sorry. It's the way things are."  
  
"Is it Daddy's fault?"  
  
"How do I answer this one?" Sami asked herself. "It's nobody's fault," she finally said lamely. It's the way things are."  
  
"Why can't things change?" Will demanded.  
  
"I hope they will some day."  
  
"Me too," whispered Will. In the presence of her son's tears, Sami could not beat back her own, so she turned her back to the room after hugging Will goodbye.   
  
"Take him, Philip," she ordered hoarsely.  
  
"Uh-huh. Bye," he answered awkwardly before hustling his nephew from his apartment and speeding him home.  
  
Philip was slightly distracted by the scene for most of his half-day at school, and he considered cornering Belle Black and asking her if her sister was entirely sane. But he decided that Belle would take the question badly, and besides, Chloe might get jealous. He went home that evening eagerly anticipating his paycheck, and hunted down his older brother.  
  
"Lucas?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"You notice that your son got home?"  
  
"Yeah, yeah. Your money's lying on the dresser. Fifty bucks. The extra ten is your Christmas bonus."  
  
"Thanks!" Philip pocketed the money and turned to leave.  
  
"Hold on."   
  
"What?"  
  
"Since you got a Christmas bonus, you're going to earn it."  
  
"That's not how a Christmas bonus works!"  
  
"What do you know about that?"  
  
"Well, that much."  
  
"Come on. This won't strain you. Will told me Sami read him a Christmas story from some book written for kids older than him. Have you read anything lately that has a chapter that might work as a five-year-old's bedtime story?"  
  
"Do I still get the ten dollars if I say no?"  
  
"Yes, but you'll be throwing away future money-making opportunities, and I might tell your father how little of a business head you have."  
  
Philip looked at his brother sourly, and his face brightened only slightly when he replied. "Read him part of that God-awful book we had to read in freshman English. That'll put him to sleep, all right."  
  
"Which God-awful book?"  
  
"The one full of that coming-of-age crap. Wait." Philip jumped out the door and returned less than a minute later, hurling a paperback book at Lucas' head. "A Tree Grows in Brooklyn."  
  
Lucas rolled his eyes. It was entirely possible that he would agree with Philip's assessment of this book. "Thanks, Phil." In response, Philip flashed the money in Lucas' direction before vanishing once more. Lucas vanished himself, leaving his own room in favor of his son's. "Ready for your story, Buddy?"  
  
"Uh-huh. It's from a grown-up book?"  
  
"It is. So you have to lie still and pay attention, okay?" Will nodded and Lucas opened the book.  
  
"There was a cruel custom in the neighborhood. It was about the trees still unsold when midnight of Christmas Eve approached. There was a saying that if you waited until then, you wouldn't have to buy a tree; that 'they'd chuck 'em at you.' This was literally true.  
  
"On the Christmas Eve when Francie was ten and Neeley nine, mama consented to let them go down and have their first try for a tree. Francie had picked out her tree earlier in the day. She had stood near it all afternoon and evening praying that no one would buy it. To her joy, it was still there at midnight. It was the biggest tree in the neighborhood and its price was so high that no one could afford to buy it. It was ten feet high. Its branches were bound with new white rope and it came to a sure pure point at the top.  
  
"The man took this tree out first. Before Francie could speak up, a neighborhood bully, a boy of eighteen known as Punky Perkins, stepped forward and ordered the man to chuck the tree at him. The man hated the way Punky was so confident. He looked around and asked  
  
"'Anybody else wanna take a chance on it?'  
  
"Francie stepped forward. 'Me, Mister.'  
  
"A spurt of derisive laughter came from the tree man. The kids snickered. A few adults, who had gathered to watch the fun, guffawed.  
  
"'Aw, g'wan. You're too little,' the tree man objected.  
  
"'Me and my brother-- we're not too little together.' She pulled Neeley forward . . . Francie saw the tree leave his hands. There was a split bit of being when time and space had no meaning. The whole world stood still as something dark and monstrous came through the air. The tree came towards her blotting out all memory of her ever having lived. There was noting-- nothing but pungent darkness and something that grew and grew as it rushed at her. She staggered as the tree hit them. Neeley went to his knees but she pulled him up fiercely before he could go down. There was a mighty swishing sound as the tree settled. Everything was dark, green, and prickly. Then she felt a sharp pain at the side of her head where the trunk of the tree had hit her. She felt Neeley trembling.  
  
"When some of the older boys pulled the tree away, they found Francie and her brother standing upright, hand in hand. Blood was coming from the scratches on Neeley's face. He looked more like a baby than ever with his bewildered blue eyes and the fairness of his skin made more noticeable because of the clear red blood. But they were smiling. Had they not won the biggest tree in the neighborhood? Some of the boys hollered 'hooray!' and a few adults clapped. The tree man eulogized them by screaming 'Goodbye-- God bless you.'"  
  
Lucas looked at Will, who was wide awake and not nearly as disgusted by the book as his uncle had been.  
  
"Read more!"  
  
"I think that's enough."  
  
"That's the best one so far."  
  
"Really? Better than the one your Mommy read last night?" Lucas was pleased.  
  
"Better because it was ABOUT you and Mommy."  
  
Lucas was taken aback. "How was it about Mommy and me?" he asked, morbidly curious as to just how his son's mind worked.  
  
"You're both like that. You'd let him throw the tree at you."  
  
"We don't have to."  
  
"If you did."  
  
"I suppose we would."  
  
"You're smart. And you're . . . you're . . . you keep doing things until you get what you want."  
  
"You mean stubborn?"  
  
Will nodded enthusiastically. "Stubborn." Lucas couldn't argue the point.  
  
"But this is about a brother and a sister."  
  
"I need a brother or a sister."  
  
Lucas nearly fell off his chair.  
  
"Can I have one?" Will added.  
  
"It's not that simple," Lucas answered, regaining his voice as quickly as he could. "You need a Mommy and a Daddy to have a brother or a sister."  
  
"I *have* a Mommy and a Daddy," Will explained witheringly.  
  
"But we aren't married, and we aren't getting married-- not because we don't love you, but because we don't love each other the right way. You should be married before you have a baby."  
  
"Were you and Mommy married when you had me?"  
  
"Sort of," was the only reply Lucas deemed fit to vocalize. Certainly he and Sami had had a partnership of sorts.  
  
"Okay," said Will, sleepily and disappointedly.  
  
Lucas left the room, trying not to contemplate the prospect of giving Will a younger sibling, and trying not to enjoy contemplating the prospect of giving Will a younger sibling.  
  
"In Dreams: The 12 Days of Christmas"  
by Medea  
Part 6  
  
Date: December 19, 2000  
  
Sami resigned herself to another night alone. Brandon had had some sort of family emergency to take care of, and while he had thanked Sami for her offer to help, he had said that this was something he had to handle alone for the time being. Will, of course, was with his miserable excuse for a father.  
  
As she had nothing to do, and she had no desire to partake of the feast of Christmas-oriented doggerel the mass media was sending her way, she went to bed early and hoped to sleep, hoped that her dreams would not involve her worst enemy . . . although that last one, in which he had nearly been killed by an exploding barn, had not been *too* bad.  
  
She closed her eyes and instantly found herself in Salem Place. She was still surrounded by the avaricious, materialistic language of Christmas but she no longer minded. She did not even mind when Lucas fell into step with her.  
  
"Hey," he offered by way of greeting. "Any new plans?"  
  
"Not yet, but we have Austin and Carrie halfway along to broken up. We just need something to seal the deal."  
  
Lucas nodded. "All this chipping away is starting to pay off . . ." Sami did not hear the end of his comment, however, because she was so busy staring at the display in the window of a toy shop. She read aloud:  
  
"BOYS! At last YOU can own an OFFICIAL RED RYDER carbine action two-hundred shot RANGE MODEL AIR RIFLE!  
  
"Yes, fellows, this two-hundred-shot carbine action air rifle, just like the one I use in all my range wars chasin' them rustlers and bad guys can be your very own! It has a special built-in secret compass in the stock for telling the direction if you're lost on the trail and also an official Red Ryder sundial for telling time out in the wilds. You just lay your cheek 'gainst this stock sight over my own special design cloverleaf sight, and you just can't miss. Tell dad it's great for target shooting and varmints, and it will make a swell Christmas gift!!"  
  
Sami glared at the display a moment. "How sexist," she remarked.  
  
"It's a replica of a toy that was popular way back before the beginning of time," Lucas responded. "I guess they didn't change the advertising, either."  
  
"This is it."  
  
"This is what?"  
  
"I have to have a Red Ryder BB gun for Christmas."  
  
"Sami!" cried Lucas disapprovingly. "You'll shoot your eye out!"  
  
"That's just it. Austin will be afraid I'll shoot my eye out, and so he'll want to spend more time with Will and me to protect us. Carrie will get tired of waiting for him, and she'll turn to you."  
  
Lucas nodded. "It could work, but you have to remember to be careful, Sami. I'd hate for something to happen to you or the little guy."  
  
"Nothing will happen to Will. He's why I'm doing this." Lucas raised an eyebrow. "Well, part of why I'm doing this. I just have to get my parents to give me one of those for Christmas."  
  
"I'll give you one, if you promise to be careful."  
  
"No. It'll look like a setup if it comes from you." And with that, Sami rushed off to the hospital, where she was pleased to find her mother was not seeing a patient.  
  
"Hello, Sweetie-Girl," greeted Marlena. She looked slightly nervous; Sami did not often seek her out.  
  
"Hi, Mom. I just thought I stop by, if you aren't too busy." It was best to start turning the screws early.  
  
"Of course not, never, Sami."  
  
"Well, I know that your life is kind of crazy, and I haven't really helped, but I was wondering what you wanted for Christmas."  
  
Marlena looked stunned. "Sami, all I want for Christmas is for you and your brothers and sisters to be happy."  
  
"And for John to be in your bed," Sami thought but did not say. She remained silent, knowing her mother would fill the empty space between them with words. One would think a shrink would know better.  
  
"Well, what do YOU want for Christmas, Sweetie?"  
  
"Mom, I think I'm beyond getting a Christmas present. I mean, I started breaking laws before I was in high school, and then, when you were possessed and told me to go after Austin and he made a fool of me I ended up dropping out and living alone and pregnant on the streets of Seattle. I've failed in every way someone can fail. Daddy doesn't think enough of me to write me, let alone visit me. I don't want anything from you."  
  
"Sami! Sami!" Marlena grabbed both of her daughter's arms, and Sami had to steel herself not to pull away. "There are solutions to these problems. I'll help you in any way I can. But they have nothing to do with Christmas presents. Surely there's something you'd like to find wrapped up in a box under the tree."  
  
"Well . . ." Sami said doubtfully.  
  
"Yes?" Marlena prompted.  
  
"At the store in Salem Place, they have these Red Ryder BB guns--"  
  
"Anything but that! Sami! You'll shoot your eye out!"  
  
"I knew you didn't love me," Sami snarled, slamming her mother's office door on her way out. She lost no time in catching a bus to the Brady Pub, where her grandmother was busy hanging wreaths on the windows. Sami methodically began to work alongside her.  
  
"Thank you, Sami," said Caroline.   
  
"You're welcome. Grandma--"  
  
"Sami?"  
  
"My Mom and I are having some problems and I was wondering if you could help."  
  
"Of course, I'll try."  
  
"She said she'd do anything for me, and she wanted to start by getting me a Christmas present, but when I asked her for one little thing, she said no."  
  
"That's odd. What did you ask for?"  
  
"A Red Ryder BB gun."  
  
A look of horror crossed Caroline's face. "No wonder. Sami, you'd shoot your eye out!"  
  
"But what if I needed it to protect myself from Stefano?"  
  
"I think Stefano has changed. I don't think we need to worry about him anymore."  
  
"What if I can only afford to live in some crummy apartment and it has rats I have to kill?"  
  
"Call Austin. I'm sure he'd kill them for you. Sami, you can't have a BB gun. They're too dangerous."   
  
Sami sighed and called Lucas to let him know she was making little progress. "Don't worry," he grinned from the other end of the line. "I've got my own plan just in case yours doesn't work. Austin won't be anywhere near Carrie tonight."  
  
"Really? Where will he be?"  
  
"Out in the field by the skating pond. We were over there earlier today, and we started arguing." Sami snickered. Lucas ignored her. "Anyway, he said I was a know-it-all and not as smart as I thought I was. I said at least I knew enough not to stick out my tongue that close to a metal flagpole in December, because it would get stuck. Austin didn't believe me, so I dared him to lick the flagpole. I called him a wimp a couple of times, and he did it."  
  
Sami groaned. "And you left him stuck to the flagpole!"  
  
"Well, yeah. He's going to stand Carrie up, and someone has to comfort her."  
  
"I'm going to help Austin right now."  
  
"No. Wait a while. I need time with Carrie. And you want him to be desperate before his angel of mercy shows up."  
  
All right. Sami hung up regretfully, and she managed to wait ten minutes before rushing to Austin's rescue. She poured a glass of water over his tongue, which was indeed frozen to the skating rink flagpole, and freed him. Austin stumbled against her wearily, and Sami lost her balance on the slick ground. She struck her head on the ice, and the next thing she remembered was waking up in her mother's guest room on the night before Christmas.  
  
Her first thought was that she had very little time to convince someone to give her a Red Ryder BB gun for Christmas, and in her desperation, a wonderful idea came to mind. She flattened herself out against the pillows when she heard her mother's footsteps approaching the room.  
  
"Mom?" she murmured breathily.  
  
"Sami! Sami, you're awake. We were so worried."  
  
"Why? Did I miss school?"  
  
Marlena looked puzzled.  
  
"Where's Daddy?" added Sami.  
  
"Sami," Marlena asked carefully. "What's the last thing you remember?"  
  
Sami scrunched up her face. "I remember asking for a Red Ryder BB gun. I know you and Daddy will get it for me. Can I have it now, since it's almost Christmas?"  
  
"Sami . . . Sami, wait a minute." Marlena hurried out of the room.  
  
Sami's next visitor was Lucas. "Are you all right?" he asked quickly. "You scared me."  
  
"Who are you?" asked Sami.  
  
"You really . . ."  
  
"No, I don't *really*," answered Sami, throwing a pillow at her friend. "I'm faking amnesia because it's the only way to get what I want."  
  
"Sami . . ." Lucas shook his head. "You never cease to amaze me, Sami."  
  
Sami only smiled, and sweetly asked if he would help her get up and go downstairs to greet the rest of her family, including Austin and Carrie. She knew that if she were to successfully fake her amnesia, she could not scowl when she saw John; and she almost did not want to when she noticed that he was holding a long, thin box with her name on it. Marlena still looked disapproving but Sami delightedly pulled back the ribbon to reveal a Red Ryder BB gun.  
  
"Can I go outside and try it?" she asked.  
  
"Be careful," chorused Marlena, Carrie, and Austin. Lucas opted to escort Sami outside. Carrie was not pleased with him at the moment, although he didn't see why. It wasn't as if he had FORCED Austin to stick his tongue on that frozen pole.  
  
Once outside, Sami drew in a deep breath and pointed the gun at her face. Startled, Lucas wrenched it from her grasp.  
  
"What are you doing?"  
  
"I have to shoot myself so Austin will take care of me," she explained.  
  
"What?! Sami, Sami, that's crazy." Lucas knelt before her in the wet snow. "Sami, you've gotta promise me you won't hurt yourself again. It isn't that important, Sami."  
  
"It IS, Lucas, it IS!" She reached to take the gun from him, and in the struggle she nearly strangled herself with her blankets.  
  
She awoke with a start.  
  
"What is the matter with me?" she asked allowed.  
  
For the rest of the long night, she was unsure whether she should scream or cry.  
  
  
  
"In Dreams: The Twelve Days of Christmas"  
by Medea  
Part 7  
  
Date: December 20, 2000  
  
Will took a flying leap into his bed, ignoring his father's call to be careful. He looked forward to his bedtime story more each evening as Christmas approached. "Buddy, I told you not to do that."  
  
"I'm sorry, Daddy." Will wasn't sorry, but he figured his reprimander had no way of knowing that.  
  
"That's okay. You've got your book?" Will nodded and handed the red-covered book to his father, and slid beneath the covers on his bed. He closed his eyes to better picture the story, unaware that he was risking falling asleep and thus missing the highlight of his day.  
  
Everyone  
Down in Salem  
Liked Christmas a lot . . .  
  
But the Kate  
Who lived just north of Salem,  
Did NOT!  
  
  
The Kate HATED Christmas! The whole Christmas season!  
Now, please don't ask why. No one quite knows the reason.  
It COULD be her head wasn't screwed on just right.  
It COULD be, perhaps, that her shoes were too tight.  
But I think that the most likely reason of all  
May have been that her heart was two sizes too small.  
  
But,  
Whatever the reason,  
Her shoes or her heart,  
She stood there on Christmas Eve, hating that tart:  
That tart Sami Brady, who was William's mother,  
Who tricked one of Kate's sons with help from the other.  
She knew Sami would keep Will from Austin and Carrie,  
So she sent toys to her first son to make his son merry.  
  
"But she's hanging his stocking," she snarled with a sneer.  
"Tomorrow is Christmas. It's practically here!"  
Then she growled, her Kate lips now nervously grinning,  
"I MUST find some way to stop Sami from winning!"  
  
For,  
Tomorrow, she knew . . .  
  
Sami'd get Carrie's goat.  
She'd pick up her son, and to Austin him tote.  
And then! She would gloat! She would Gloat! Gloat! Gloat! Gloat!  
That's one thing Kate hated. Sami's GLOAT! GLOAT! GLOAT! GLOAT!  
  
Then Sami'd find Lucas, and then they would laugh.  
And they'd laugh! And they'd laugh.  
And they'd LAUGH!  
LAUGH!  
LAUGH!  
LAUGH!  
They'd laugh at naive Carrie, and at dumb Austin's gaffe.  
And this made the Kate want to cut Sami in half!  
  
And THEN  
They'd do something  
She liked least of all!  
With each victory for schemers, the large and the small,  
Sami and Lucas would watch, and without even shrugging,  
They'd stand close together. And the two would start hugging!  
They'd hug. And they'd hug!  
AND they'd HUG! HUG! HUG! HUG!  
And the more the Kate thought of their victory hug,  
The more the Kate thought, "It's time to pull the plug!  
"Why, for more than four years I've put up with it now!  
"I must stop my son's friendship with Sami!  
. . . But HOW?"  
  
Then she got an idea!  
An awful idea!  
THE KATE   
GOT A WONDERFUL, AWFUL IDEA!  
  
"I know just what to do!" The Kate said with a grin.  
So she called Jamie Caldwell, and the crooked Nurse Lynn.  
And she chuckled, and clucked, "What a great bitchy trick!  
"After this, my son Lucas won't think Sami's so slick!"  
"Now my son will ditch Sami . . ."  
The Kate saw the end.  
But despite her downfall, Lucas stayed Sami's friend.  
Did that stop mean old Kate . . .?  
No! The Kate simply said,  
"If Lucas still likes Sami, I'll crush in her head!"  
So she found Austin's car, and she played with the breaks  
And this new fiendish plan almost gave the Kate shakes.  
  
THEN  
She waited for Sami  
To take Austin's car  
And fall under the wheels  
So the plan would go far.  
  
And the Kate said "hooray!"  
When young Sami went down  
And for long at the hospital  
Lay a-snooze in a gown.  
  
All her family showed up. And their fear filled the air.  
But the Kate was happy and smirking without care.  
Then her second son Lucas burst into her lair.  
"This is all Austin's fault," the now-frantic one hissed  
And he ran from the room looking royally pissed.  
  
Then he went to see Sami. She was near her end.  
But if her family said good-bye, then so would her friend.  
He cried only once, since he felt so alone,  
"Please, Sami, don't die," he begged with a moan.  
And soon Sami awoke, and thought she was sixteen,  
And the Kate was quite sad because she was so mean.  
  
The Kate slithered and slunk, with a smile most unpleasant,  
Around Sami's room, in case blackmail was present.  
Couches! And wallpaper! Ceiling fans! Dolls!  
Televisions! Wardrobes! Throw rugs! And shawls!  
She redid the apartment! But the Kate, very sadly,  
Could not find the photos she wanted so badly!  
  
Then the Kate got a break. Sami planned Austin's wedding,  
But Carrie, Eric and Roman began a blood-letting.  
They tore Sami from Austin and went in for the kill.  
They proved Lucas the father of Sami's son Will.  
  
The Kate watched the proceedings in torrents of glee.  
"And NOW!" grinned the Kate, "He'll be done with Sami!"  
  
And the Kate called up Franco, and she got him to say  
That he cared for Sami, so from Lucas she'd stray.  
He turned her head fast, and he got her in bed.  
And a drunk, jealous Lucas soon wished Franco dead.  
  
Sami showed Lucas the anklet Franco brought her.  
"Trust means nothing?" said Lucas; a mean smirk he shot her.  
Sami stared at her beau and said, "Franco Kelly, why,  
"Why do you now want to marry me? WHY?"  
  
But you know, that Franco was so smart and so slick  
He thought up a lie, and he thought it up quick!  
"Why, Samantha, my sweet," the bought fiancé lied  
"I just can't live my life without you by my side."  
But, really, he needed a Green Card, you see,  
For in truth he was wanted back in Italy.  
  
But his fib fooled Samantha, who love never had,  
And she promised to wed him and make the Kate mad.  
And while Sami spent long nights at home with her son,  
HE went to the strip club and really had fun!  
  
The day of the wedding  
Franco stood by the fire  
And he threatened the Kate with a poker, the liar.  
But Lucas came in and made Franco expire.  
  
And the Kate saw that  
He'd used Sami's gun.  
So she framed her son's friend and she thought she had won.  
  
Then  
She made sure that Lucas  
Would not end the strife  
  
Making sure  
That Samantha  
Was out of his life!  
  
It was quarter 'til day  
Sami Brady, near death,  
Sami drawing last breath,  
When he ran to the jail,  
And he pounded the glass! "I shot him! I did!  
"You cannot kill Sami! She mothered my kid!"  
  
Yes, Lucas confessed! This angered the Kate.  
She had thought that the framing had sealed Sami's fate!  
"My stupid son Lucas!" she Kate-ish-ly said.  
"He won't forget Sami until she's quite dead!  
"But she's still alive! I know JUST what I'll do!  
"I'll let her take the helicopter, and Lucas, too,  
"But the chopper will crash! Her poor family! BOO-HOO!  
  
"That's a noise," grinned the Kate  
"That I simply MUST hear!"  
So she paused, and the Kate put a hand to her ear.  
And she DID hear a sound, a sad wail, she believed.  
But the Bradys weren't wailing. No, they were relieved!  
  
Oh, could it be true?  
Lucas saved her again?  
It couldn't be so!  
When would Sami die? WHEN?  
  
She called on old Victor!  
He answered her call!  
Then they left,  
Left for Italy with a Will doll.  
  
Each meal eaten by Sami, the large and the small,  
Was poisoned by Lucas, who held the Will doll.  
  
This plan would drive Will's mother crazy!  
It would!  
If this wouldn't do it, well then, nothing could!  
  
And Lucas, as he watched Sami head for a cliff,  
Stood looking quite stupid: "It was only a tiff.  
"It shouldn't have come to this! Never this far.  
"We were always such good friends. In my heart, we still are."  
But the Kate scolded her son, until he caved in.  
And the Kate chased her rival, who always had been,  
A thorn in her side, but still she still wouldn't die,  
And the now-futile plan made the Kate want to cry.  
  
And what happened THEN?  
Well . . . in Salem, they say  
That the Kate finally cheered  
Because she got her way!  
And the minute their friendship fell beyond repair  
For Sami and Lucas could no longer care  
For one another after all that had been  
The Kate . . .  
  
. . . SHE HERSELF!  
The Kate had the last grin!  
  
Lucas had been stretched out on his bed, contemplating his plans for the rest of the evening, when his son's terrified wails reached his ears. He bolted upright and fairly flew into his son's room, barely managing to knock the light on with his trailing hand before gathering the little boy into his arms.  
  
Will was trembling and sweating as he clutched his father's shirt. Lucas grew more concerned with each second; he had never seen anyone react to a nightmare this way, least of all his son. This behavior was more consistent with some kind of post-traumatic stress, or a genuine night terror. He wondered if he should call a pediatrician now or wait until the next morning.  
  
"Can you tell me what happened, Buddy?" he asked, praying that Will would calm down after describing his dream.  
  
"The Grinch isn't supposed to win!"  
  
"The Grinch doesn't win, Buddy, he doesn't. Here." Lucas reached for the book, which he had left on the table beside Will's bed. "Look. He gives their presents back, and he carves the roast beast."  
  
Will frantically shook his head 'no.' "In my dream, she made you and Mommy hate each other."  
  
"Your Mommy and I don't hate each other," Lucas said for what felt like the umpteenth time, although he knew that Will no longer believed him. He would call Sami the next day and make sure she was telling their son the same thing.   
  
"She made you say she killed someone, and so she got punished, and then she made you poison her and make her walk off a cliff. So you could never be friends again."  
  
Lucas paled. What had Will seen? What had he heard? He had heard stories of children overhearing things in their sleep and incorporating them into their dreams without knowing they were true. Hopefully, that was true in this case, because if Will knew how close to the truth he had come, he would never recover.   
  
"None of that happened," Lucas answered smoothly, soothingly. "Your Mommy's fine. She never walked off a cliff. She was punished for some things she didn't do, but that was a long time ago. She's fine now. Now," he switched his voice to commanding, "lie back down."  
  
"Don't go."  
  
"I'm not. I'm just turning out the light."  
  
And for the rest of the night, Lucas lay awake in the darkness of his son's room.  
  
"In Dreams: The Twelve Days of Christmas"  
by Medea  
Part 8  
  
Date: December 21, 2000  
  
Sami kissed Brandon goodnight and locked herself in her apartment. She flung herself down on her couch and stared at the wall while she contemplated the overwhelming unfairness of a world in which a mother could hear of her child's nightmares third-hand. Brandon was probably sorry he had passed on this information to her since she had paid him little attention after learning this minor, unimportant fact.  
  
She did not know what she had expected. She had certainly not thought that the jerk Will called "Daddy" would tell her anything, but perhaps she had thought she would just sense Will's distress. Then again, why would she believe that? She *always* felt distressed, because her son was not home where he belonged.  
  
Son that she was not allowed to see or comfort. Check.  
  
Job that she hated. Check.  
  
Listening to the man she had loved more most of her life giggle in the apartment next door with the ex-girlfriend of her brother. Check.  
  
Said brother and best friend far away, never to come back. Check.  
  
Chased by a man who treated her like a goddess but unable to feel more than friendship for him. Check.  
  
Living in her perfect older sister's old apartment. Check.  
  
Sami had all the makings for a great life. "I would have been better off if I'd never been born," she said to the wall. "The whole world would have been."  
  
Samantha Evans entered the room and sat down next to her namesake. In her depressed mental state, Sami saw nothing odd about this situation, given that Samantha Evans had been murdered years before the birth of Samantha Brady, but simply looked expectantly at her aunt. "You and I both know you don't believe that, Sami."  
  
"Aunt Sam, it's true." Sami twisted to face her companion. "Lucas won't let me see Will, and even though that's more important than everything else in my life put together, the rest of my life is awful, too. Someday, I'll get Will back, but there just isn't any reason for me to be alive until then."  
  
"I'm proud that your son is so important to you, because that's how it should be, but you're really selling yourself short. You have so much to be proud of and believe in. You're an incredible young woman who has seen more than her fair share of heartache--"  
  
"And caused more than her fair share of trouble."  
  
"I'm proud of you for that, too."  
  
"You would be. You locked my mother up and tried to take over her life."  
  
"Is it my fault her first husband was such a dim bulb that he couldn't tell us apart? We weren't even identical twins. I mean, would Eric's girlfriends be able tell the difference if you tried to take his place?" Sami did not dignify the comment with a response. "Well, you see, some people are just BEGGING to be manipulated. But I was sorry for what I did after a while. I loved your mother, really. Like I'm sure you love Carrie."  
  
"I guess I do. But can't you see how much better her life would have been if I had never been born? Not that I mind so much with her, because I had a reason to hurt her, but everyone in the world, Eric, my parents, my friends, would be better off without me."  
  
"You're stubborn. I can't imagine where you get it." Sam sat in silence for a moment before snapping her fingers with delight. "I'll show you. You'll believe it when you see it."  
  
"You'll show me what?" asked Sami warily.  
  
"I'll show you what a world without Sami Brady would be like. Let's go."  
  
"Go where?"  
  
"Stop asking questions." Sam grabbed her namesake's hand and pulled her out into the night. "Now, what were some of your problems? You hate your job? Then let's head for the hospital. We might meet your mother there, too."  
  
A short drive later, Sam and Sami passed through the wide doors of Salem's premier hospital. "I should warn you," said Sam, "that no one but you can see me." Sami nodded. She had figured as much, somehow. "Now show me where you work," the older woman commanded.  
  
"Right here," replied Sami. "At the nurses' station." She glanced at the counter, familiar, yet unfamiliar. A woman whom she did not know was filling out forms behind stacks of paper. "Where's Larry?" asked Sami. "He was supposed to be working tonight."  
  
"Who?" asked the woman.  
  
"A friend of mine. Larry. He's a receptionist here."  
  
"You must have the wrong floor. No one named Larry works here."  
  
"But--" Sami began to argue when her aunt held up a warning hand.  
  
"It was a chain reaction, Sami," Sam explained. "You never hired Nicole away from the Java Cafe. She never made money or asked Brandon to come to Salem. Brandon never found Larry and helped him get this job."  
  
Before Sami could reply, nurses began to swarm around her. "It's a shame," said one. "These women never think they can get out of this kind of situation, and they try to hide it, until it's too late."  
  
"Another abusive husband?" sighed Nurse Brenda, who was equally intimidating in this reality.  
  
"No. A father," explained the younger nurse. "Looks like he's been doing this to his daughter since she was in her teens."  
  
"That's the worst kind. But if she won't accept help, there's nothing you can do."  
  
The younger nurse nodded. "Pull the file," she commanded the woman who held the job in Larry's place.  
  
"Name?"  
  
"Caldwell. C-A-L-D-W-E-L-L."  
  
"Jamie?"  
  
"You got it."  
  
Anger made Sami forget herself. "Don't tell me," she began, her voice dripping with scorn, "Because I wasn't around Jamie didn't have a best friend to help her through her problems with her father, and she never got out of his house and into college. That's stupid. It was really my grandmother and Billie Reed who helped her, not me."  
  
Sam shrugged. "Why would she know them if not through you?"  
  
Anything else Sam might have said was cut off by the concerned voice of Nurse Brenda. "Are you all right? Did you come to see a psychiatrist?"  
  
"Yes!" Sami seized the opportunity. "Dr. Marlena Evans."  
  
"Her office is right down the hall. Do you need help?"  
  
"No, I'm okay."  
  
The nurse nodded sympathetically. "I heard you mention Billie Reed. That was quite a tragedy. It's always worse when a drug addict takes someone with him. Bad enough she had to get behind the wheel . . . but she came from that kind of family. Has a brother who lives hand-to-mouth on the boxing circuit, you know. No friends. No one to lean on."  
  
Sami just nodded, not trusting herself to say anything more if she did not want to get herself committed and treated by her mother. However, once she and her aunt were alone in the hallway, she demanded an explanation.  
  
"I don't know. Figure it out yourself."  
  
"That has nothing to do with me. Carrie and Austin lived in the same building. That's how he and Billie met my family. But Billie's getting clean, and Austin's getting out of boxing didn't have much to do with us. And I didn't have any influence on Carrie's life back then."  
  
"You think not?"  
  
"I know not." Sami pulled up short before her mother's office, and drew in a breath before knocking on the door.  
  
"Come in," called a familiar voice, although not the one Sami had expected. But when she saw the voice's owner, Sami's shock was palpable.  
  
"Belle . . ." she said softly.  
  
Belle cocked her head and regarded Sami quizzically. "I'm sorry, I don't remember your name."  
  
"It's Sami," she answered as smoothly as she could. "We haven't met. It's just that your mother told me about you."  
  
"I'm surprised," was the embittered response. "I didn't think she was into bragging about her failure of a daughter, the high school dropout, eight months pregnant at age sixteen."  
  
"You aren't a failure!"  
  
"Next you'll tell me I'm not pregnant."  
  
"These things happen. I was pregnant when I was not much older than you, and it wasn't easy, but it worked out."  
  
"Really?" Belle looked startled almost out of her cynicism.  
  
"Really. One of the best things about it was that when I got older I could talk to other girls in my situation, help them see things weren't hopeless. And I talked to my little sister, she's about your age, a lot. I wanted to keep her from making the mistakes I made."  
  
Belle nodded. "It must be nice to have a sister. I don't have any brothers or sisters. I always wanted some."  
  
"You don't have ANY?" Sami tried not to sound shocked and blow her cover.  
  
"Well, I had a brother, two brothers actually, but they died before I was born. And one of them had a sister, she wasn't blood-related to me, but she lives in Europe somewhere. I've never met her."  
  
"This is going to sound like a nosy question, and you don't have to answer, but would you mind telling me how your brothers died?"  
  
"Sure. The first one, DJ, died of Sudden Infant Death Syndrome." That much had not been changed by Sami's absence, at least. "The other one was named Eric. When he was five, my father took him and his sister, Carrie, skiing. Eric went off by himself, and I guess he got lost. They searched for him, but by the time they found him he had frozen to death. They were only a few minutes too late, but . . ." Belle shrugged. "That really broke my father's heart, and Carrie's, too. See, they thought my Mom was dead at the time, and all the three of them had was each other. Carrie couldn't take it and she went to live with her mother in Europe. She hasn't been back, since."  
  
"She never came back to visit your father, or your mother when you realized she wasn't dead?"  
  
"That's where it gets really weird. When my Mom came back from the dead, so did Carrie and Eric's father. My father wasn't who he thought he was, but he was the one Mom was in love with. Since Eric was dead, Mom didn't see a reason to go back to a man she didn't love, at least not as much as she loved my father. So Carrie and Eric's father just took his gun-- he was a police officer-- and blew his brains out. It was a total shock, coming home and having absolutely nothing to come home to. The woman my Dad was dating at the time didn't handle it much better, but as it turned out she had terminal cancer. He stayed with her while she died, and then he married Mom and named me after the other woman-- Isabella. So, to answer your question, Carrie never came back because her real parents weren't here."  
  
"That's awful."  
  
"It is. And now I've made it worse by getting pregnant. The only surviving child, and she's a slut. I never should have listened to Philip."  
  
"Philip?"  
  
"Yeah, he's the father, even if he won't admit it. He was the only one."  
  
"What do his parents think?"  
  
"His mother's dead."  
  
Sami brightened. Some things WERE better in this world.  
  
"How did SHE die?"  
  
"Her ex-husband beat her up when he found out she was involved with Philip's father. He kept coming back, and one day he finally killed her."  
  
"And where was Philip's father during this?"  
  
"He didn't know. He was sick. He had two strokes and he's been in a nursing home ever since."  
  
"I KNEW it wasn't my fault."  
  
"Why would it be your fault? You don't even know these people-- or DO you?"  
  
"No, of course not. It's just that, um, my father-in-law had a couple of strokes, too, and I sort of blamed myself because we had so little money. I thought that better care might have kept him from having the second stroke. But hearing you talk about how it happened to this rich person made me feel better in a way."  
  
"Oh. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to accuse you of anything."  
  
"No harm done. I don't want to intrude, anyway."  
  
"You aren't. I like having someone to talk to. I don't have many friends."  
  
"Is that why you and Philip . . ."  
  
"No. I just, I know it's silly, but I felt so BAD for him. The only family he really has is this one brother, his mother's son, but Lucas doesn't really care about anything but running Titan for Victor and he's never done more for Philip than he absolutely had to. Philip's wild, but he's sad in a way. It's hard to explain."  
  
After a few more minutes spent talking to Belle, Sami and Sam left the office. "Anywhere you want to go now?"  
  
"Yes," said Sami determinedly. "Titan."  
  
Titan was not far from the hospital, and the drive seemed too short to Sami as she explained her feelings to her aunt. "I remember that ski trip. Eric and I got lost together a few times, and apart a few times. It was awful, but if only one of us was lost the other could find us, and when we were together we worked together. I never thought it was so serious. And Daddy . . . Daddy . . . and now I see why Austin and Billie never met our family. Billie never killed Curtis. There's no Brady, and Belle's pregnant, but why hasn't Victor recovered?"  
  
"Think it out yourself. Why did he recover in your reality?"  
  
"Vivian helped him. But Kate's out of her way here, too."  
  
"How did Vivian get back into Victor's life after having Philip implanted in her body?"  
  
"Through Titan."  
  
"How did she get into Titan?"  
  
"Lucas."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Who knows?"  
  
"I think you do."  
  
"It was some kind of deal. I don't know. I was in Seattle at the time."  
  
Sam looked at her niece meaningfully.  
  
"That was her price for getting me back for him."  
  
"That's right. But he's never met you, since you don't exist."  
  
"He must be very happy."  
  
"Talk to him. Find out."  
  
Sami found Lucas quite easily, as he was the only one working in the building aside from the cleaning staff. "I'll be out soon," he mumbled as he heard her approach.  
  
"No rush."  
  
Now Lucas looked up sharply. "I thought you were one of the cleaners. I'm sorry. What can I do for you?"  
  
"Actually, my husband works for the cleaning service and he forgot his key. I brought it down for him, and I got a little lost on my way out. I'm sorry."  
  
"Don't be."  
  
"Could I ask . . .?"  
  
"Go ahead."  
  
"Are you Lucas Roberts, the one who runs this whole company?"  
  
"That's me."  
  
"It must be great."  
  
"It's my whole life."  
  
"Surely not your WHOLE life?"  
  
"Actually, it is. I come in here early in the morning an I leave late at night. I work when I'm awake, and sometimes I drink myself into sleep."  
  
Sam positioned herself behind Lucas. "He seems like a boring sort. I can't imagine what you ever saw in him," she commented as Sami did her best to ignore her.  
  
"But what about your family? I thought I heard you had a son?" Sami queried.  
  
"No family. Mom's dead. Never found out who my father was. Stepfather's a vegetable. One brother but I don't really know him. He's crazy. And certainly no son."  
  
Sam rolled her eyes. "You must realize, Sami dear, that without you there can't be a Will,"  
she said.  
  
Shock filled Sami's face. "I want to go home," she told Sam bluntly.  
  
"So go," answered Lucas flatly. "No one's stopping you."  
  
"No, I meant-- never mind." Sami fairly flew from the room with her aunt beside her. Once she was safely in the car, she began to speak again. "Aunt Sam, how could I have forgotten?"  
  
Sam shrugged. "You've had a hard day." She studied her niece. "Is something else bothering you?"  
  
"No, well, yes. What you said about Lucas being boring was right. He seemed so flat, and lifeless. I might not LIKE him, but he's not like that in my reality, and it was strange."  
  
"Pull over for a second. Look at me." Sami obeyed. "Some people are like that. They need to meet someone special to light their spark, you know? I think Lucas is that way." Sami did her best to accept this explanation, and turned her attention to thoughts of Will. Inside her apartment, she was relieved to find photographs of him, as well as photographs of a very adult Eric.  
  
She jerked on her couch as if she had been in a trance. The clock told her it was nearly midnight-- she had spent a fantastic amount of time staring at that wall, and thinking about Luc-- NO! She would not ever think of him. She would think of stupid Christmas before she thought of Lucas. Unmindful of the time and her sleeping neighbors, she slammed the stereo on, searching for a station that was not blaring Christmas music. To her dismay, she found one:  
  
"In the night, in my dreams,  
I'm in love with you,  
'Cause you talk to me like lovers do.  
I feel joy, I feel pain,  
'Cause it's still the same,  
When the night is gone I'll be alone.  
Another night, another dream, but always you--"  
  
She slammed the stereo off as harshly as she had slammed it on, and instead picked up the telephone, and dialed the extension that would connect her directly to Lucas' room at the Kiriakis Mansion.  
  
"I hate you!" she screamed as soon as Lucas picked up the phone.  
  
"Who is this?" answered Lucas sarcastically.  
  
"It's me, you jerk! I hate you! I want you to know I hate you, and I don't care if your whole family's dead and no one ever lit your spark!"  
  
"As much as I'd like to continue this conversation, I'm hanging up now."   
  
Lucas made good on his promise, unaware that the worst of his night had not yet begun.  
  
  
"In Dreams: The Twelve Days of Christmas"  
by Medea  
Part 9  
  
Date: December 22, 2000  
  
Isabella was dead, to begin with. There was no doubt whatever about that. She died in her husband's arms, in Italy, while her infant son slept in the next room, and this was before Lucas Roberts ever came to Salem. So Lucas was most surprised when, upon opening his eyes in the cool blackness of his bedroom, he beheld her ghost sitting atop the foot of his bed.  
  
"Who are you?" he asked, since she could not be who she seemed to be, and since he was still too sleepy to feel fear at her sudden appearance.  
  
"That's not a very friendly greeting for your step-sister," she replied with a gentle smile, as if she spoke to a very small child who could not be trusted to grasp a simple concept like a visitation from a ghost. "I'm Isabella Toscano Black."  
  
"You aren't really my step-sister," said Lucas, who felt very much out of control because, after all, he was sitting in his bed, in his pajamas, while an older woman, dressed in an elaborate, angelic beaded robe, spoke to him as if this occurrence was nothing out of the ordinary. "Your father and my mother never actually got married."  
  
"They were married in their hearts, Lucas, and that's what matters. Perhaps some day they will marry legally. I'm sure that would make our little brother Philip very happy."  
  
"Yeah, it would. If you want to go down the hall to his room, I'm sure he'll tell you that himself."  
  
"I didn't come here to see him. I'm here to see you. Didn't your grandfather tell you to expect me?"  
  
Lucas paled as he recalled that, earlier that night, he had indeed had a strange dream; but he had thought it had been the result of having his sleep disrupted by Sami's ridiculous phone call. In his dream, he had awakened to the sound of rattling chains, and been shocked to discover that they bound the hands and feet of the late patriarch of Salem, Dr. Tom Horton. "You don't believe in me," the doctor had observed.  
  
"I don't."  
  
"What evidence would you have of my reality beyond that of your senses?"  
  
"I don't know."  
  
"Why do you doubt your senses?"  
  
"Senses can be tricked."  
  
"Ah," the good doctor nodded wisely. "Your drinking problem."  
  
"It's not a drinking problem. It's a Sami problem."  
  
Tom Horton knew better than to get into such a conversation with his wayward grandson. Instead, he removed the stethoscope he wore around his neck, and his jaw dropped to his breast in a horrifying spectacle. He took in Lucas' pale face, and wide eyes, and spoke again. "Man of worldly mind, do you believe in me or not?"  
  
"I do," said Lucas. "I must. But why do spirits walk the earth, and why do they come to me?"  
  
"It is required of every man that the spirit within him should walk abroad among his fellow men, and travel far and wide. My spirit went forth in life, and thus I am not condemned to pay you this visit; but one of my few regrets in life was that I was not given the chance to do for you what I did for my other grandchildren. Julie, Steven, Sandy, Michael, Jessica, Melissa, Hope, Jennifer, and Sarah all stayed with your grandmother and me for a few summers or a few years, and I was able to teach them to act that they may avoid these chains when their times come."  
  
"Then why do you wear the chains?"  
  
"I don't need to; but if you continue along the path you have chosen, you shall. I wear them for you. I wear them to warn you, for you still have a chance to escape such a fate. But you must hear me. My time is nearly gone. You will be haunted by three spirits."  
  
"Is that the chance you mentioned?"  
  
"It is."  
  
"I'd rather not."  
  
"Without their visits, you cannot hope to shun this path, Lucas. Expect the first within the hour."  
  
And with that, the doctor had left. Lucas pulled his mind into the present and looked at Isabella. "You're the first spirit?"  
  
She smiled warmly once more. "I am. I'm glad to see you remember."  
  
"Do you do this a lot?"  
  
"For people I care about."  
  
"I've never met you."  
  
"But I know all about you. You always seem to find your way into the lives of people I'm watching over. And I found you rather endearing, so I spoke to your grandfather about this assignment. I am the spirit of Christmas past. Now, take my hand."  
  
Tentatively, Lucas reached for the offered hand and was startled to find it solid. It was not the same experience as holding the hand of a live person, but neither was it like touching an inanimate object, nor chilling as he had suspected it might be. Isabella seemed aware that his trust in her was growing, and she placed her free hand over his heart. Suddenly, a mist  
consumed them.  
  
When it cleared, they were surrounded by the wrought iron fences and heavy brick buildings of a Virginia military academy. Lucas gasped. "I went to school here," he informed Isabella, as if she did not already know. He was startled to see the familiar faces of his classmates, and even more startled to see that they did not react to him.  
  
"They can't see you," Isabella replied in response to his unspoken question. "Walk around as you'd like. It's 1990, a few days before Christmas."  
  
"My first year here."  
  
"That's right. Do you remember where you were?"  
  
"Probably in my room, getting ready to go home." A half-wistful look came into his eyes. "I hadn't been home since starting school. I didn't want to admit it, but I couldn't wait to see my Mom."  
  
"Why didn't you want to admit it?"  
  
"I don't know, it's a guy thing. You don't want to tell a bunch of your body-building military school classmates that you think about your mother every day and you can't wait to see her."  
  
At Isabella's gentle command, Lucas led the way to a nondescript ivy-covered building and found his way to the fourth floor. Although he had been prepared, he was still stunned to see himself as he had appeared ten years earlier. His younger self was zipping up a duffel bag and hunting for an ID card while talking to a blond youth whose uniform declared that he was a few classes ahead of his companion. Lucas gnashed his teeth as he recalled his  
comrade's identity.  
  
"So, Roberts, you all excited to see your Mommy?" the blond teased.  
  
"Excited to get out of here," the younger Lucas replied.  
  
"You know how lucky you are to have an upperclassman for a friend. Your first term could have been a lot worse."  
  
He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, thanks, Harris."  
  
"Next term will be better. You won't be on such a short chain. You can come skiing with us some weekend. You ski?"  
  
"I've been skiing my whole life."  
  
The older Lucas smiled. "Stretching the truth?" Isabella asked.  
  
"Not much. As soon as Mom could afford to get me the lessons, I learned. That was a couple of years before this."  
  
"Did you have fun when you went skiing with Alan?"  
  
"It was great. Those trips were about the only freedom I got during four years in that place. But I can't look at him without thinking how things ended."  
  
They fell silent as an instructor entered and demanded that the young Lucas get downstairs and outside; his mother was waiting. He called good-bye to Alan and flew down the stairs with military efficiency, but he greeted his mother coolly, not hugging her until they were out of the building's sight range.  
  
"Baby, I think you've grown," she laughed.  
  
"Not enough," he grumbled.  
  
"Yes, enough. And I can't believe how much stronger you are."  
  
"I'd better be. They make us work out at five in the morning."  
  
"It's good for you. It was good for your father, too."  
  
"Did you know him even then?"  
  
"No, but he told me about it later. Oh, wait until you see the tree we have this year!"  
  
"Are we actually spending Christmas at home this year?"  
  
"Christmas Eve I have a business party. Christmas will be just you and me."  
  
"Good." Both versions of Lucas smiled.  
  
"You and your Mom had a wonderful relationship," Isabella observed. Lucas nodded.  
  
"We were really the only family each other had, but Christmas was still special. And not just because she spoiled me rotten every year."  
  
"And Christmas was still special when you got older, wasn't it? Let's move forward a little bit." Lucas glanced over his shoulder with a slight hint of regret for simpler times, but he soon found himself in a very familiar place. "Where are we?"  
  
"This is Austin's apartment."  
  
"He wasn't living here a few years ago, though. Sami was. And you spent an inordinate amount of time here with her. And here you are. Nice costume."  
  
"I wanted to make sure Will saw Santa Claus. And I knew Sami would get a kick out of it, too."  
  
"She was very special to you."  
  
"Was."  
  
"She was special to me, too. Still is. She was almost my stepdaughter, but we'll think about that later. We have another stop. It's not a long trip this time." Lucas closed his eyes as Isabella somehow made the world around them shift. "A few years earlier and you would have seen me here," she commented.  
  
"The Horton ornament-hanging ceremony."  
  
"What was special about this year?"  
  
"Jennifer asked me to put our father's ornament on the tree, and there was no way I could say no in that situation."  
  
Isabella smiled. "You have to watch out for Jennifer, especially when she's in league with Jack. Look at them whispering together."  
  
"That didn't work out."  
  
"Believe me, it will yet. Don't argue with me. I know what Jack's doing better than Jennifer does."  
  
"How many people do you watch over?"  
  
"As many as I can. He was my first friend in Salem, and he needs a guardian angel almost as much as you do."  
  
"Is that what you are?"  
  
"That role is reserved for your grandfather. And I'll be in trouble with him if I don't get you home on time. Take my hand again." The whirl of mist returned, and Lucas found himself back in his bed. Isabella was nowhere to be seen, but her voice echoed in the room. "You've had a lot of happiness in your life, Lucas. I hope you know enough to hang onto it."  
  
"Easier said than done," he called into the darkness, but she was gone. In frustration, he explained to himself that hanging on to his relationship with his mother and hanging on to his relationship with Sami had been mutually exclusive.  
  
"That's right, Little Lucas," a new voice replied. As his grandfather's voice had been, it was accompanied by the clanking of chains, but this voice was deeper and more hateful. A distorted, deformed face came into view, and Lucas cringed in spite of himself. "I haven't seen you since you took the rap for my murder to protect your dear mother."  
  
"Curtis," Lucas fairly spat.  
  
"That's me. I'm getting a break from the old fire and brimstone to show my favorite stepson his present. Now, take my hand."  
  
"No."  
  
"Like your mother and your sister. Always saying no." Curtis slapped his hand against Lucas' chest, and the chill which he had not felt when touching Isabella he did feel now. The changing world around him was painful this time, and waves of dizziness and nausea became his whole world. "Look!" Curtis commanded, and Lucas found that he was in his son's room.  
  
"There's an easier way to get here," he grumbled.  
  
"Aw, easy is no fun." Curtis was making boxing motions around Will's head, and although he knew that he was in some kind of different dimension, Lucas protested vehemently.  
  
"STOP! Stay away from my son!"  
  
"I ain't hurting him. You're doing that all by himself, and good for you. You're even better than my real son, Austin."  
  
"I would never hurt my son."  
  
"Aw, weren't you just gushing to good old Izzy-B that you couldn't wait to see your Mommy when you got out of school? And here his mother lives right across town and you barely let him see her."  
  
"He spent a night with her last week."  
  
"At your convenience, not his or hers. That was just a tease. You're keeping him from his mother as sure as I kept Austin and Billie from yours."  
  
"You abused them."  
  
"They'll tell you that wasn't the thing that got to them. What got to them was not having the bedtime songs, and the mother to run to after they got home from school. You're only doing one of the things I did, but it's the most important one. 'Specially when you consider this." Curtis unzipped Will's small backpack and pulled out a sheet of lined yellow paper.  
"Kindergarten and already doing homework. What he wants for Christmas. He wants his Mommy and Daddy to get married. There's nothing like false hope to raise a kid on. But we have to go." Curtis wrenched Lucas along with them, and he found himself in the apartment that adjoined the one he had visited with Isabella earlier that night.  
  
They materialized in Sami's bedroom. She was sleeping, her hair spread around her like a golden halo. Curtis took advantage of his situation and looked underneath the blankets, and underneath Sami's silken nightgown. "Pretty," he noted approvingly, holding the blankets back for Lucas to see. Lucas growled his dissent as he wrenched the covers from Curtis' hand and replaced them. Still, Sami shivered in the darkness, and wet tears coursed from beneath her closed eyelids.  
  
"Will," she cried plaintively. "Will."  
  
"The mother suffers, the child suffers. You're doing a great job, Lucas. Keep it up." And with that, Curtis returned him to his room, leaving only a foul stench in his wake. Lucas closed his eyes to clear his mind, and when he opened them again he was relieved to see long, black, curling hair.  
  
"Isabella," he murmured happily.  
  
"No," answered a voice higher and younger than Isabella's. "But she is my aunt. And that animal you just got through listening to--" she cringed "was my grandfather. I'm sorry we had to let him in, but there are rules about good spirits and evil spirits. Quotas. Even your grandfather doesn't have enough pull to get around them." The girl stepped into a beam of light that Lucas was sure had not existed before, and Lucas finally saw her face. She was beautiful, several years younger than he, with deep, dark eyes. Now THIS was what dreams should be made of. "Uncle Lucas," the girl said firmly. "That is NOT what this is about."  
  
"So, you're my niece, from the future? You haven't been born yet?"  
  
"Yes, I have." She smiled sadly. "I've lived and died. My name was Georgia Brady."  
  
Lucas grew more serious. "You're Billie's daughter."  
  
"This is how I would have looked in the year 2019 if I had lived."  
  
"You're beautiful."  
  
"Thank you. Are you ready to go?"  
  
"As ready as I'll ever be."  
  
She nodded. "Don't worry, this is the last trip." And Lucas was off again. He found himself in a lavishly decorated room.  
  
"Tuscany?" he asked.  
  
"It's been a while since it's been called that, but yes. Oh, look," she squealed, suddenly changing the subject. "It's Shawn. Handsome even in middle age," she grinned, as she rushed forward to inspect her older brother more closely. "If I had lived, I would be in my senior year of college. I'd be old enough for a legal drink. I'll bet my big brother would buy me one, and dance with me. He always wanted a sibling, you know."  
  
"He seems happy."  
  
"He is." But as they watched, an equally-aged Belle Black rushed up to him, and concern clouded his face. Lucas noticed that each sported a wedding band.  
  
"Are they married?"  
  
"They are. But I won't tell you if it's to each other. You shouldn't know so much about other peoples' futures. Still, they're close friends, as you can see."  
  
"What's wrong?"  
  
"Let's listen in."  
  
"She never should have come here tonight," Shawn was saying. "She's too emotionally fragile."  
  
"That's my sister--"  
  
"And my cousin, Belle. I love her, too. But we both know she can't handle this."  
  
"She won't have to. We'll stop him."  
  
"We'll try, but you know there's no controlling him when he gets this way! And frankly, hasn't it ever crossed your mind that Sami deserves at least a little bit of what she gets from Will?"  
  
"Of course it has. My parents weren't together when I was born, and they didn't act like Sami and Lucas did. But Sami turned eighteen right before she had Will, Shawn. She was a child herself. I think she did the best she could. She's paid enough over the years. She looks old enough to be my mother, maybe my grandmother, instead of my sister. And she's been in and out of treatment centers and halfway houses for years. She doesn't ordinarily get up the courage to come out like this, and if it's in my power to stop Will from  
ruining things, I'll stop him! Don't you remember how she used to be? She used to be a force of nature, a smart aleck, clever, and brave, and so beautiful. I grew up wanting to be just like her, and when I look at her, I think that's still what I see, not what she's become..." Belle's voice broke, and Shawn curled a comforting arm around her shoulders.  
  
"I'll try."  
  
"I know you will," she sniffed, gratitude shining in her pale eyes.  
  
A loud argument caused the two to freeze, though, and Lucas froze as well. His son's voice was that of someone in his mid-twenties, not that of a five-year-old, but it was still a voice he would know anywhere. "Let me in," it snarled. "Of course I have money."  
  
"You haven't lost your whole trust fund up your nose, then?"  
  
"Let me in," he repeated, and shoved his questioner aside. He stood out in the formally dressed crowd not only because of his torn jeans and flannel shirt but because of his manner of movement, which was reminiscent of an animal on a rampage. His muscles stood out prominently, but his face was waxen and his eyes burned with unmitigated hatred and distrust.  
  
Shawn placed himself in the younger man's path. "Will, you're high. You won't even remember whatever you do."  
  
"But my mother will," he snarled, and he knocked Shawn to the ground as he made a beeline for the room in which he knew Sami was hiding; she was unable to handle a large crowd. "Sami," he announced coldly when he saw her.  
  
"Will," she whispered brokenly. "Why won't you call me 'Mom?'"  
  
"You weren't my mother. You and my father hated each other, and you hated me!"  
  
"I never did, we never did, we never thought--"  
  
"You should have thought about someone besides yourselves."  
  
"It was all for you, Little Man--"  
  
"Don't you dare call me that. How dare you, you selfish slut!" He managed to slap her damp cheek before a team of men about Georgia's age (J.T. on the left, Isaac on the right, Georgia whispered in Lucas' ear with no small amount of pride) pulled him away. Lucas was torn between following his son and staying with Sami. He opted for the easier choice and remained cemented in place. Sami had slipped to the floor and drawn her knees to her chest. Her hair was cropped close to her head, probably because she was incapable of caring for a long mane, so Lucas was able to see her anguished face. He longed to do something to restore her to herself, but he was powerless. He was relieved to see Belle draw in a deep breath and approach her sister.  
  
After long moments of comforting, Belle pulled a coherent phrase from Sami's lips. "I've never seen his grave. I need to. Take me, Belle?" Her gaze was utterly dependent and beseeching.  
  
"Sami, I don't know. I don't even know where it is."  
  
Tears and rocking threatened to resume. "Please, you're the only one who can help. The only one who can come near me. I know you know where."  
  
"I don't. This isn't such a good idea."  
  
"Your precious Philip must have been the one who took care of it. You can find out."  
  
Before long, Belle had been won over. Lucas, too emotionally exhausted to be even mildly curious to see his younger brother's future appearance, only vaguely heard Philip and Belle's conversation. At last, Belle hissed that she would not watch her sister suffer another psychotic break, and Philip flung his hands in the air and scribbled an address on a napkin. Belle helped Sami into a car as gently as she would have helped a child-- she had several, Georgia explained impishly-- and drove her down darkened dirt roads to an  
abandoned cemetery. It was entirely unkempt, and Belle murmured that obviously no one who expected visitors was buried here. Sami took this opportunity to cry again, and say that Lucas was lonely, and Belle was unable to remove the bitterness from her voice when she replied that Lucas had brought his eternal loneliness on himself. "They were his own decisions," she said. "He alienated everyone, pushed the Hortons away, never stood up for what was right with his mother, or with you . . . he deserved that time on death row, and he deserved the painful, LONELY death he got!"  
  
They found his grave after some serious searching with a heavy duty flashlight. The headstone was only a few years old, but was already crumbling. Sami placed her hand on the stone as she knelt in the frozen weeds. "Merry Christmas, damn you," she whispered. "You destroyed yourself, and me, and your son...." When she began to look as if she might be overcome, Belle pulled her away-- but not before she spit on the grave.  
  
Lucas was startled when Belle returned. Without the vision of Sami to distract him, he studied the younger woman more carefully. She looked haggard and ragged; her elaborate pale blue evening gown had quite possibly been ruined by dragging through the frozen mud and wet snow. Her eyes searched the ground frantically, and finally she ripped a diamond broach from the clutches of the abandoned cemetery. "I wouldn't lose it, Mom," she whispered. "As for you," she scowled at the headstone, "I hope you're burning in hell." She looked up in agony, and Lucas stepped backward as her eyes met his.  
  
"She can't see you," Georgia reminded.  
  
"My mother," she said tightly, gripping the broach so that it left an imprint in her hand, "was about the only member of my family you didn't destroy. But who knows. Maybe if Sami had been herself, she would have been able to help when Stefano finally got his way! I was horrified when I watched your execution, you know. I couldn't wait. I remembered being a little girl and wondering why Sami didn't visit me, and finding out later that she had been on death row. I thought it would be satisfying, after all those years you put it off with appeals and tricks, but when the IV snapped, and the drug was only partway into your vein, when you lay there and writhed for twelve hours looking lucid, I was sorry for you. Sami never should have watched, but she did. She watched every minute. She said she had killed her son's father, and she deserved to see it. A few days after that, when Will was yelling at her like he always did, it was like she just went crazy. We didn't have a choice, we had her committed. When Eric found out what happened, he came running back to Salem-- and he wrapped his car around a tree. Mostly Sami doesn't remember that he's dead. She thinks her father is dead, though, and I hope he's sharing hell with you. He  
left because it was too difficult for HIM to see Sami this way. Carrie comes back from Europe a few times a year, but Sami doesn't always recognize her. Her long term memory is wavery on some things. The doctors say I should just let a nursing home or an asylum take over for me, but I wouldn't give your mother the satisfaction. I know she hears things in that cell of hers. They say a good lawyer could get her out now, but Philip won't do it, and God knows where Austin and Billie are. If you just would have acted like a man--" Her voice broke off as she returned to do her sisterly duty.  
  
Lucas was shaking badly, and he looked to the heretofore playful Georgia for some comfort, but her mouth had hardened. "I was born dead," she said hatefully. "Think of all things I'll never do, just because of chance, not because of any sin. Chance was on your side-- and look what you're about to do. I'd have made a better person than you."  
  
She studied his face then, and she resumed her earlier demeanor. "But this is one possible future, Uncle Lucas. It's only what happens if you continue as you are. I want to show you something else."  
  
"No... please..."  
  
"It will just take a minute. It's somewhere you've been before."  
  
He cringed as he saw Sami once again, aged, but then he did a double take as Georgia grinned. Sami was still beautiful. Her trademark long hair coursed about her shoulders as she whispered conspiratorially with a teenager.  
  
"The Horton Center again?" asked Lucas.  
  
"Perfect place to go before Midnight Mass," Georgia replied.  
  
Again, Lucas heard Will's voice. "There's my little sister!"  
  
"Where have you been?" squealed another girl, who looked much like the one who had been entangled with Sami.  
  
"Med school. You know that. I told you I'd make it home."  
  
"Is she mine or Sami's?" wondered Lucas.  
  
"Both," replied Georgia with a grin. "You've got quite a few. Think you could name one after me?"  
  
"I would . . . but we both know this isn't real."  
  
"It will be, if you want it. But we have to go."  
  
"No!"  
  
"You don't want to come, you don't want to go..."  
  
Lucas found himself back in bed. He was relieved to find himself steady and alive, but determined that one day he would see the girl who had hugged Will again. If only he knew how.  
  
"In Dreams: The Twelve Days of Christmas"  
by Medea  
Part 10  
  
Date: December 23, 2000  
  
Note: It has been pointed out to me that Billie didn't kill Curtis, Stefano did, so parts of part 8 of this story don't work. It's too late for me to fix it now, so I'll just say bah humbug, it's an alternate reality.  
  
It had been the ultimate exercise in humiliation. University Hospital gave as much of its staff time off during the Christmas holiday as was possible without compromising the hospital's standard of care, and so workers in positions like Sami's were expected to do twice as much work as usual in half as much time as usual while doctors and nurses got ready for their vacations.  
  
So, when Nurse Brenda had strolled up to the nurses' station, Sami had expected to be told to work harder, or to be reprimanded for doing something incorrectly. Instead, the nurse had told Sami that she looked "terrible, worse than some of the patients," and had sent her home.  
  
"I *must* look awful to get sympathy from *that* woman," Sami thought to herself as she staggered into her apartment, viciously biting the top off of a candy cane while she plotted her next move.  
  
She did not have anything in particular to plot, but plotting was an infinitely preferable pastime compared to thinking about how thoroughly emotionally dysfunctional she had become. Missing her son was one thing, and missing his father quite another. Will she naturally thought about every day, and the time of year made it worse. She was bombarded with images of happy parents and children twenty-four hours a day, and much of her free time had been dedicated to adding to the stack of neatly wrapped boxes that had taken over one of her closets. But she had thought she had gotten past her feelings for Lucas years before.  
  
Her most recent dream had been the worst one of all. How could she have been more concerned by the vacant look in Lucas' eyes than by Belle's pregnancy or her father's suicide? "Disconcerting" was far too mild an adjective to describe the situation.   
  
Luckily, she did not have long to dwell on her problems before Brandon's knock and his concerned "Samantha?" sounded in the hallway.  
  
"It's open."  
  
"Nurse Brenda said she sent you home, so I knew it must have been something really bad," he began without ceremony. "Why didn't you tell me? What hurts?"  
  
Sami was rudely tempted to laugh at Brandon's attentiveness, but she managed to stop herself. His behavior was not unendearing, after all.  
  
"I'm not really sick. I'm just tired."  
  
"So why aren't you in bed?"  
  
"Well, you know, if I got to sleep now, I won't be able to sleep tonight."  
  
Brandon's expression told her clearly that he did not believe her. "Why haven't you been sleeping at night?"  
  
Sami wondered if she should tell Brandon the truth. He had never judged her before; however, she was fairly sure that it would be bad form to explain to the man who was constantly declaring his undying love for her that she was pre-occupied by thoughts of her child's father.  
  
Finally, she replied "I've been having dreams."  
  
"Dreams?"  
  
"Dreams."  
  
"Do you want to tell me about them? It might help."  
  
The offer was tempting. "Sure you want to hear?"  
  
"Positive, Samantha."  
  
"Okay." She paused. "Well, the last one-- I wasn't even sure it was a dream. It felt more like a trance or a vision. I was talking to my Aunt Sam."  
  
"She's the one you were named after?"  
  
"Uh-huh. She died before I was born. She was murdered, actually."  
  
"Your family...."  
  
"Yeah, that's my family. It gets better. She and my Mom were twins, and when Mom wanted to have Aunt Sam committed because of her drug problem, Aunt Sam drugged Mom and had HER committed instead, and then she took over her life. Even Mom's husband, not my father, her first husband, couldn't tell the difference."  
  
"I think I might have liked your Aunt Sam."  
  
"I wonder. I mean, I wonder how I would have gotten along with her. In my dream, she said she was proud of me, not just because I'm a schemer. She was telling me how important I was, that Eric could have died when we were kids if it hadn't been for me, and that Carrie needed siblings to link her to Mom when her real parents weren't around, and that Belle needed a role model, and my father needed someone to come back to Salem for when Stefano captured him, and that if I hadn't given Nicole a job you wouldn't have been able to come to Salem and help the people you've helped--"  
  
"I definitely agree that it would have been a bad thing if I hadn't met you."  
  
"Thanks."  
  
"Why was this a bad dream?"  
  
At the last second, Sami knew that she could not explain. Some things were not meant to be shared. "It was just disconcerting. It reminded me of how much I miss Will, not that there's anything that doesn't, and it was scary to know that some things could happen whether or not I'm around."  
  
"I think I understand." Sami doubted that he did, because she herself did not, but she appreciated the sentiment. "Get in bed."  
  
"I don't think we're at that stage of our relationship yet--"  
  
"Ha ha. Just you wait." His demeanor shifted. "Get in bed. I'm going to make sure you fall asleep. I'll come back in a few hours with dinner, okay?"  
  
"Brandon, you're so good to me, I really don't deserve--"  
  
"Get in bed," he said for the third time, and she obeyed. In spite of herself, she fell asleep quickly, with the comfort Lucas' presence-- no, Brandon's presence-- brought.  
  
Sami stared out the window of Brandon's loft. Sometimes it reminded her uncomfortably of the loft John, and various of her aunts and uncles, had owned. She didn't want to be reminded of family when she could not see her son.  
  
"Samantha," he chided her. "Miracles can happen. Don't you believe in them?"  
  
"About as much as I believe in Santa Claus."  
  
"I understand why you feel that way, but you have to have faith. I'll do everything in my power to help you get your son back."  
  
"I know you have, and I know you will, but there are some things you can't do. Only Lucas can help me now, and I know he won't."  
  
"Have faith, Samantha," he repeated, and he left the room.  
  
Sami heard someone outside the door, and she opened it since Brandon was not around. To her surprise, a mailman stood on the threshold. "I didn't think mail came on Christmas," she said confusedly.  
  
"It's a special delivery," she was informed. He handed her a letter. "This is a formal apology from Carson Palmer, on behalf of the state, for prosecuting an innocent woman." And then a slim newspaper. "This has a story in it about how Kate Roberts framed you, and how she will pay for that for the rest of her life." Next came an official-looking paper. "This returns full custody of your son to you." Sami nearly fainted with relief and joy, but the mailman still held one envelope above her hand. "This," he explained, "is from Lucas Roberts. He wants you to meet him to pick up your son. He suggests that you spend the day together, since it would make Will so happy."  
  
"Thank you," she replied, gratitude shining in her eyes.  
  
"It's my job," he answered, and he had barely made it out the door before she was flying away from the loft, Brandon forgotten, toward her son.   
  
Lucas was waiting at the appointed place. "There you are," he smiled. "Will and I were getting worried."   
  
Sami pulled Will into her arms. "I've missed you," she said.  
  
"Merry Christmas, Mommy."  
  
Lucas had pulled back, and was observing the scene skeptically. Sami shot him a questioning look. "Cute picture," he explained. "But it needs something." With that, he tossed a snowball, and before Sami could duck, or even protect Will, she found herself covered with the cool, wet substance. Scrambling to a standing position, she lunged for Lucas, and pulled him to the ground with her. She encouraged Will to help her take her revenge on his father, and soon they were all laughing, rolling on the ground, when the doorknob rattled.   
  
The doorknob?  
  
"Brandon?" she called sleepily. "Come in."  
  
"It's not Brandon," replied the last voice in the world she had expected to hear.  
  
"Lucas?"  
  
"Lucas."  
  
"And Will!"  
  
"Will?" Sami finally jumped from her bed at the sound of her son's voice. She tumbled haphazardly into the living room and hugged her son enthusiastically.  
  
"Hi, Mommy. Your hair's messed up."  
  
"I know it is, Sweetie." Will tried his best to straighten Sami's tangled locks with his fingers, as she had often done for him, but he succeeded only in making her wince involuntarily. Lucas pulled his son away, but not too fast, not too hard. He didn't want to give him the idea that they were leaving. His intent, in fact, was to leave Will here until Christmas had passed, but he wanted to make sure that he himself stayed as long as he could. With Will. And with Sami.  
  
"We didn't mean to wake you up," Lucas finally said.  
  
"Oh, I'm more than willing to be woken up for this," said Sami, blissfully happy and unusually unaware of her appearance. She was still engrossed in her son, but now she looked up at Lucas, seeing as she had always seen, if she were honest with herself, the striking resemblance between parent and child. "What are you two doing here?"  
  
"For one thing, delivering a Christmas card."  
  
"Oh? From you, Will?"  
  
Will shook his head emphatically. "You get mine on Christmas, Mommy. This is from Daddy."   
  
Sami raised her eyebrows and reached for the offered card. It was in a gold-and-white-envelope, as all of Titan's Christmas cards were. Her parents were on Titan's Christmas list, even if she was not. On the front of the card was a golden sketch of Titan's headquarters dressed up for the holidays; it was more tasteless than anything else. Inside, she knew, was a quote from some ancient Greek play about the original Titans, and their strength, and that of their families. "Thank you," she said solemnly, not wanting the other shoe to drop, but knowing that it had to, especially in light of her most recent conversation of the man standing before her.  
  
"You didn't read it."  
  
"I've read them before. Titans. Power. I get it."  
  
"This one's a little different."  
  
Sami opened the card. As promised, in place of the company's thinly veiled plea for more work from its employees and more money from its consumers, was a very different passage of writing.  
  
"It *is* a Titan card, but I reset the computer," Lucas explained as she read in shock, not daring to believe that the words meant what she wanted them to mean.  
  
"Their friendship was not of those common alliances born of a confirmation of tastes and interests. It owed its origin rather to an attraction natural and irresistible. In such a friendship deep and exquisite, each friend undergoes all the sufferings of his comrade, and all her pleasures. It is not necessary to demonstrate this feeling; for neither has a thought in which his friend is not mingled; if either perceives that his friend is not in accord with him, it is solely because of the preference he gives to his friend over himself. That friend is not only one whom one loves because he prefers her to all others; she is a being apart, and one whom no one resembles! It is neither her qualities nor her virtues that her friend loves in her . . . It is for herself that he loves her, and because she is herself. Those who have not tasted this feeling-- they alone can deny that it exists. One must needs pity them." Marie Jean Antoine Nicolas Caritat, Marquis de Condorcet.  
  
In Lucas' own handwriting, on the facing page of the card, he had asked that "his friend" enjoy Christmas with her son.  
  
She stared at him wide-eyed.   
  
WAS it silly to believe?   
  
Or was this her miracle?  
  
"In Dreams: The Twelve Days of Christmas"  
by Medea  
Part 11  
  
Date: December 24, 2000  
  
Lucas had almost left the Kiriakis Mansion when his mother's voice stopped him dead in his tracks.  
  
"Lucas! There you are. I haven't seen you for three days!"  
  
Lucas shrugged. "I've been around."  
  
"And where is your son?"  
  
"My son is with his mother."  
  
"After all we went through?" Kate rolled her eyes skyward. "You just handed him over to that little witch?"  
  
"It was the right thing to do."  
  
"I-- I can't believe you would betray me this way." Kate's voice shook with either frustration or anger.  
  
"Betray you? How did I betray you?"  
  
"How did you betray me?" mocked Kate in a near sing-song. "Do I need to list out the things we did to keep Will away from Sami? Have you been drinking again?"  
  
Lucas tried to stop himself from groaning. "I'm stone cold sober."  
  
"Are you sure?"  
  
"You want a urine test?"  
  
"Don't be crass."  
  
"Don't accuse me of being drunk."  
  
"Don't turn your son over to that monster."  
  
"I'm not 'turning him over.' She's his mother. He wanted to see her."  
  
"So?"  
  
"So? I want my son to be happy. Sooner or later we won't be able to keep Sami away from him. What if she finds out what we did? If I want mercy from her, I'd better show it to her."  
  
"Mercy is for the weak, Lucas. And Sami isn't weak, even if you are. And more importantly, she will NEVER find out what we did unless you take it upon yourself to tell her."  
  
"I hope you're right. But I don't think you are."  
  
"Just let me handle this."  
  
"Your *handling* is what got this started in the first place. You will not handle me, and you will not handle my son!" He did not even attempt to keep the contempt from his voice.  
  
"Well, Merry Christmas to you, too! You didn't answer my question. Where the hell have you been?"  
  
Suddenly, annoyance dissipated from Lucas like a wave. It was replaced with a cool feeling of control which had been too long absent. A slow smirk spread across his face. "Well, I spent a lot of time getting ready to go over to Sami's. Since she wasn't expecting to have Will for Christmas, I had to make sure he would have a good time, you know. So I bought some garlands, and a few nutcrackers, and some extra ornaments for her tree. Then I decided that her tree wasn't big enough, so Will and I went out and got her another tree. And that needed lights, and tinsel, and everything. You have to do it right. A kid only gets a fifth Christmas once. It took us most of the afternoon and evening to get her apartment right. I'm going back there now. Even though Will's staying there for the holiday, he can't miss the Horton ornament ceremony. When a kid is entitled to something like that, happens to be born into a family like that, it isn't right to take it away from him. I'm sure Sami understands that."  
  
Kate was staring at him with silent, wide eyes and Lucas took the opportunity to leave the premises without further comment.   
  
Five minutes later, he eased his car to a stop beneath Sami's window and ran up the stairs without bothering to wait for the slow, sometimes uncertain, elevator.  
  
"Come in, Lucas," Sami sang out almost before he had been able to knock on the door. Once inside, Lucas was struck by the difference between the atmosphere of the warm, cozy apartment and that of the sterile, echoing mansion he had just left. Christmas carols played softly in the background, and his new tree-- as large a tree as he had dared try to fit through the door-- glowed with as many lights as they had been able to cram onto it. Best of all, Will was there, happily chattering non-stop.  
  
"Hi, Daddy."  
  
"Hi, Buddy. Are you ready to go to your great-grandmother's?"  
  
Will nodded. "And then Santa Claus will come." Some of Lucas' good cheer evaporated. He and Sami had not yet attempted to have a conversation of any kind but logistical, and so he was still unsure as to how they would deal with their son's disappointment that he would not be getting a wedding for Christmas.  
  
"You're bringing him back right after the ornaments?" Sami asked somewhat uncertainly.  
  
"Yeah. Unless you want to come with us." Lucas was not sure from where the invitation had come. Forging some kind of alliance with Sami to assuage his irrational fear that Will would become a drug addict was one thing. Actually spending time with her . . . that was something else.  
  
"Of course I'm coming," answered Sami a little too quickly. Time with her son was time with her son, after all. And it wasn't as if she had never been to one of those Horton Christmas Eve parties before. And it wasn't as if her Uncle Bo and her cousin Shawn wouldn't be there. And it wasn't as if the idea of spending an extended amount of time with Lucas worried her. She pulled her coat and Will's from the closet with finality.  
  
*********  
  
Almost six hours passed before the three returned to Sami's apartment. Since they had been spending the evening together anyway, there seemed no reason not to follow the mass migration to the Brady Pub, and then to Midnight Mass. Midnight had passed, and it was officially Christmas, but the technical distinction between Christmas Eve and Christmas Day had been blessedly lost on Will, who was still excited and happy. Sami wondered at his marvelous reserves of energy.  
  
"You've got to get in bed or Santa Claus will skip us," Lucas began the timeless argument of parents.  
  
"Do I still get my story?" Will asked in a piteous voice that both of his parents knew was carefully calculated.  
  
"We'll tell you while you get ready for bed," answered Sami, somewhat annoyed at her automatic use of the term "we." It had probably resulted from a combination of spending a whole evening as a part of Will's pseudo-family and the after-effects of the odd dreams she had occasionally suffered over the past week or so. Sleep was not looking like a possibility for her this evening, though, since she had to play Santa Claus in the brief expanse of time her son was likely to sleep.  
  
"You can't tell me a story without a book."  
  
"This one I can. Let's go brush your teeth." When she was certain that Will was following her orders, Sami leaned against the bathroom door's jamb and began from memory.  
  
"Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house  
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse."  
  
It was true enough. The building seemed to be deserted except for the small pseudo-family. Most people did not attend Midnight Mass after all; those who had not vacated the building to visit family were sound asleep.  
  
"The stockings were hung by the chimney with care  
In hopes that Saint Nicholas soon would be there."  
  
Lucas had insisted on hanging a long row of stockings along what passed for Sami's mantelpiece. He had said that he wanted to go all the way on decorations, and if Lucas was paying and Will was happy, Sami had not seen reason to object.  
  
Sami paused to usher her son into his room and kiss him goodnight. "You stopped," he complained.  
  
"Do you know why?"  
  
Will did not, but Lucas took the opportunity to insert himself into the scene. "I know!"  
  
"By all means, enlighten your son." Lucas tugged again at the blanket Sami had just arranged.  
  
"The children were nestled all snug in their beds,  
While visions of sugarplums danced in their heads."  
  
Lucas half-smirked at his son before continuing.  
  
"And Mama in her kerchief," Lucas again paused to lay a scarf he had not removed across Sami's blonde locks as a mock-kerchief. She smiled in a long-suffering sort of way and wound the scarf around Lucas' head as he completed the phrase, "and I in my cap,  
Had just settled our brains for a long winter's nap,  
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,  
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter."  
  
Sami's low whisper cut into his recitation. "He's already asleep."  
  
"Good," was Lucas' answering whisper. "That's all I have memorized."  
  
Sami had never been able to resist the temptation to one-up someone, especially if "someone" was Lucas. She smiled dangerously and looked him in the eye for one of surprisingly few times that night.  
  
"Away to the window I flew like a flash,  
Tore open the shutter, and threw up the sash.  
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow  
Gave a luster of midday to objects below.  
When what to my wondering eyes should appear--"  
  
Sami was distracted from her speech when she noticed that Lucas' eyes were not wondering but rolling.  
  
"But my son, though I thought I'd miss Christmas this year.  
With an escort, arriving together they were.  
I knew in a moment it must be his father.  
More startled than ever I was when he came,  
And I almost regretted I'd called him that name.  
That Lucas, that Lucas, he's really a pain.  
All I want is my son but my hopes are in vain.  
From the top of my heart, and the bottom part too,  
I have what I need and I honestly thank you."  
  
Lucas had been too busy looking morbidly bored by Sami's skills of memorization to notice exactly when her words had strayed from those of the original poem. But he had heard her ending, and he knew that he was being challenged one more time. He resumed the bedtime story.  
  
"I know you believe my excuses don't fly,  
But you must understand that I'm willing to try,  
I can give Will a thousand toys, shining and new,  
But that's not what he wants, `cause he wants me and you.  
And that makes me think that before he was born  
We were best friends for years, but that friendship was torn.  
As I thought in my head, and turned ideas around,  
This thought came into my mind with a bound.  
We can make our son happy, it shouldn't be hard.  
And too much of his lifetime our fighting has marred."  
  
"But you took him from me, and that wasn't right.  
You left me in prison cells, night after night.  
My nights-- they were awful! My days-- no more merry!"  
  
"So you tried to give *my* son to Austin and Carrie!"  
  
"But you had been drinking, and Will wasn't safe--"  
  
"And you were an innocent, little, lost waif?"  
  
"*I* never once dropped my son on his head,   
And someone who wasn't me got Franco dead."  
  
"If you can't forgo the past, then we can't help Will.  
It's your child's dream that you're trying to kill."  
  
"Sure, you can say that, and not to be curt,  
But I, and not you, am the one who was hurt.  
Still, I have to say, with my heart and my head,  
That if all this stops then we'll save Will from dread."  
  
Lucas only stared at her, and the silence lengthened in a manner that was almost frightening. Sami, not entirely sure what she had just done, quickly switched to the original lines of the poem she had memorized almost unintentionally.  
  
"He spoke not a word but went straight to his work,  
And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk,  
And laying his finger aside of his nose,  
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose.  
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle.  
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.  
But I heard him exclaim ere he drove out of sight,  
'Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!'"  
  
The bedtime story having been thus dutifully finished, Sami and Lucas closed their son's door. They said not a word but went straight to their work, with Sami pulling boxes from her locked closet and Lucas running outside into the cool midnight air to retrieve yet more packages from the trunk of his car.  
  
When boxes had been arranged beneath and beside the tree, and a handful of larger toys had been assembled, and the sugar cookies and milk Will had left for Santa had been properly disposed of, they finally broke their silence by making small talk grounded in their admiration of their work.  
  
"Most of what I got Will is here," Lucas ended up.   
  
"Most? There's MORE?"  
  
"A few things that are special, that I want to give him myself, even if it's not when he wakes up Christmas morning."  
  
Sami nodded slowly. "That makes sense."  
  
"There's one more thing."  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"You know what."  
  
"Will thinks Santa is going to marry us for his Christmas present."  
  
"Do you have any thoughts on what to do?"  
  
"He'll outgrow it sometime."  
  
"He'll still be crushed tomorrow."  
  
"All this stuff is going to distract him."  
  
"Distract, sure. But . . ."  
  
Sami shrugged helplessly. "We just have to give him time. We'll tell him again that we care about each other, and him."  
  
"You do tell him that?"  
  
"Of course!"  
  
Lucas held up a hand in a gesture of surrender. "I'm sorry. I meant to call you about it a few days ago, and I didn't."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Why didn't I call you, or why was I going to call you?"  
  
"Both."  
  
"I didn't call you because I was distracted and because talking to you can be a trial. I intended to call you because Will had a really bad dream."  
  
Sami glared at him sourly. "I know. I heard third-hand."  
  
"I'm sorry, okay?"  
  
"Has he had any more?"  
  
"Dreams? No." Lucas decided it would not be wise to mention that *he* had.  
  
"But this one . . ."  
  
"It was the night we read 'How the Grinch Stole Christmas.' He fell asleep and apparently he dreamed that the Grinch won." Lucas looked dreadfully uncomfortable and was quite obviously leaving something out of his explanation.   
  
"And?" prompted Sami.  
  
"And he seemed to integrate some of his real life into it. The Grinch didn't steal presents. He made us go from best friends to worst enemies."  
  
"Ouch."  
  
"He also made the Grinch female."  
  
Sami was tempted to snicker in spite of herself. "Nicole?"  
  
The desire to see the amount of amusement Sami would get out of hearing this part of the story overwhelmed Lucas' desire to keep her from gloating. "Actually, I think it was my Mom."  
  
Sami's eyes widened, but she was able to control her genuine, and mixed, reaction. For his part, Lucas had accomplished his goal and done everything in his power to give Will a merry Christmas. "I guess that's it, then," he said, turning for the door.  
  
"Wait," she answered lowly. "Stay."  
  
"In Dreams: The 12 Days of Christmas"  
by Medea  
Part 12  
  
Special Auxiliary Disclaimer: My crack team of legal consultants has suggested that I add this because there is so darn much in this fic that does not belong to me. As I said previously, I do not own Sami, Lucas, their families, their friends, their enemies, or their town. Also, I do not own "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer" or "Frosty the Snowman." I haven't got the faintest idea who does (but rest assured it isn't me). "The Nutcracker and the Mouse King" is by E.T.A. Hoffman (not me), and the story was adapted for the ballet by Alexandre Dumas (he may be the only author I'm willing to read French for, but he's not me, either), and while I didn't use the music from the ballet, I should tell you that it was created not by me but by Piotr Ilich Tchaikovsky. Laura Ingalls Wilder, not me, wrote "On The Banks of Plum Creek," which contains "The Christmas Horses;" likewise, Betty Smith, not me, wrote "A Tree Grows in Brooklyn." Jean Shepherd (still not me) wrote "In God We Trust, All Others Pay Cash," which contains "Duel in the Snow, or Red Ryder Nails the Cleveland Street Kid," as well as the film "A Christmas Story." "How the Grinch Stole Christmas" was written by Dr. Seuss, which is a pen name for Theodore Seuss Geisel, not for me. The movie version of said book is sacrilege (Jim Carrey as the Grinch, indeed!) and I refuse to view it or disclaim it. The equally horrendous for different reasons film "It's a Wonderful Life," which I was once forced to sit all the way through for a film class, was written by Philip Van Doren Stern and is usually associated with director Frank Capra. "Miracle on Thirty-Fourth Street," which I like much better, is based on a story written by Valentine Davies, and, if you're wondering, the 1947 version was directed by George Seaton. There are a bunch of other versions but they all suck. The Marquis de Condorcet wrote without any help for me and would have been guillotined for his trouble had he not killed himself first; so I want to state very strongly that there is no need to try to guillotine me as well. And of course, "A Christmas Carol" is the work of Charles Dickens. Again, there have been a bunch of movies based upon it because most screenwriters aren't much more original than me, but I did my stealing straight from the original source. "The Night Before Christmas" was written by Clement C. Moore, who, as you might have guessed, is not me. I don't even own the concept of plaguing two characters with dreams until they realize that they don't hate each other. There are at least four other fics on this page alone that use that device. You should go read them. If you think that I'm just writing this disclaimer because I know it will take up space that I will then not have to fill with actual storytelling, you're right. I'd like this story to be at least seventy-five pages long and it's at seventy-two right now. But I do reiterate that I own nothing.  
  
Date: December 25, 2000  
  
"Stay?" Lucas repeated as if he had never heard the short, seemingly innocuous word before.  
  
Sami nodded vigorously. "You should be with your son on Christmas morning, and it'll be here in a few hours. I mean, it's here already. Merry Christmas."  
  
Lucas smiled warmly, and was slightly surprised that his face did not feel pain upon taking on an expression that it had not felt for years. "Merry Christmas, Sami," he answered softly.  
  
"What do you want to do? I think it will be about four hours before he bounces out of bed."  
  
"That long?"  
  
They snickered together. "He is exhausted. So am I."  
  
"Me, too. Let's do whatever takes the least amount of energy."  
  
Unceremoniously, Sami and Lucas removed themselves to the couch that sat next to the large tree that dominated the room. Rather, it had dominated the room before the appearance of Will's stacks of presents.  
  
"Thanks again for the tree," Sami said, for lack of a better opening statement.  
  
"No problem. Will's only going to be five once."  
  
Sami's eyes very nearly teared up. "Can you believe it?"  
  
"I pretty much expected he wouldn't stay five for more than a year--" he caught Sami's annoyed glanced and switched his tone in mid-statement. "I know what you mean. He's walking and talking, he has things he likes and things he doesn't, he's his own little person."  
  
"My Little Man."  
  
"Why do you call him that?"  
  
Sami shrugged. "I'm not sure. Maybe it was because even when he was a baby, well, especially when he was a baby, he felt like the most real thing in my life. The only thing that mattered. I felt crazy for a few years before he was born, like there was no good in the world and no point to anything, but as soon as I had him, he was all that mattered. And because he mattered, I mattered. He felt like a grown-up to me because he was what made me feel like a grown-up, like a real person who had a place in the world, and a purpose. I guess I'm not explaining this right."  
  
Lucas smiled softly. "I think you're doing pretty well. I know what you mean. I was there."  
  
"I guess you were. You know--" Sami broke off suddenly.  
  
"I know what?"  
  
"Nothing."  
  
"That isn't fair."  
  
"It wasn't important."  
  
"Come on! Don't tease me."  
  
"It's nothing important, really. It's just that, your saying you were there for so much of my life reminded me of a dream I had the other night." As if she had forgotten any of her recent dreams for a second.  
  
Lucas tried to beat down the waves of shock that were fighting to get to the forefront of his consciousness. Had Sami been plagued by the same problems as he had recently? It would make sense. Will had been using the holiday spirit and his desire to form a family with his parents against both of them. "You had a dream about me," he finally mustered the courage to repeat.  
  
Sami nodded slowly.  
  
"A good dream? Or did I have horns and a tail?" he prompted.  
  
"It was scary, in a way. But you were one of the good guys."  
  
"I try to be one of the good guys."  
  
Sami made it obvious that she was refraining from comment on that statement. "Actually," she went on, dreading the idea of telling Lucas her sometimes-still-present fears but needed to communicate them in the depths of the winter's night to the one person she knew would understand, "Alan Harris was the one with horns and a tail in this dream."  
  
A chill ran through Lucas' body as he instinctively moved closer to Sami. "You . . . still . . . I mean . . . I'm sorry, I guess I shouldn't . . ."  
  
Sami nearly laughed. "It's okay. It's been a long time. I guess it isn't the kind of thing you ever get over, but it gets to be bearable, and then you aren't thinking about it every day anymore, and then it's barely a factor in anything. This dream, it wasn't like when I was sixteen and I would wake up terrified. The pleasant images sort of overwhelmed to bad ones. I wouldn't even call it a nightmare."  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Really." She suddenly began to laugh, not hysterically, not even tiredly, just happily. "There was one part you would have liked."  
  
"Are you going to share?"  
  
"Since it's Christmas."  
  
"How generous of you."  
  
"You asked me if I thought rats were smarter than Austin." She dissolved into giggles once more. This time, Lucas joined her.  
  
"That's sounds like me," he managed to say at last.  
  
"Wait, wait, there's more." Sami was no longer concerned about sharing her innermost thoughts with this man. She only wanted to make a precious moment with someone who had long been an integral part of her life last as long as it would. Lucas looked at Sami expectantly, so she continued, quickly deciding to combine her many dreams into one. "After we got rid of Alan and the rats, we decided to break up Austin and Carrie." Lucas groaned and rolled his eyes skyward. "Wait, wait, this is good. I decided that Austin would want to take care of me if I got a toy gun, but my parents wouldn't get it for me, and you thought that my plan wouldn't work so you got Austin to freeze his tongue to a flagpole so he'd stand Carrie up. When I went to rescue him, I hit my head and my parents were so worried they got me the gun."  
  
Lucas was laughing hard enough that he was gasping for air. "Great, Sami, great."  
  
"And bear in mind that all this happened after we blew up a barn!"  
  
"We were terrorists?"  
  
"It was for Victor."  
  
"We WERE terrorists."  
  
"No, no, not that way. It was supposed to cure him of his stroke."  
  
"Why did we want to help him? Especially you."  
  
Sami shrugged. "It was a dream. You must think I'm psychotic. But then, you always did."  
  
Lucas looked at her seriously. "I never did, Sami. Never. I know I said that to you, and you did some crazy things, but some of the happiest times of my life were when we were coming up with stupid plans to keep Austin away from Carrie."  
  
"They can't have been all stupid if they worked."  
  
"You have a point." The silence lengthened, and Lucas knew that it was his turn to keep the wonderful feeling alive. "I actually had a dream about you a little while ago, too."  
  
"Really?" Sami asked eagerly.  
  
"Really. We didn't get to blow anything up, but we did build a magic snowman. But he was going to ruin our plans to get Carrie away from Austin--" Sami snorted. "Hey, it was our life for a long time. We can't pretend it didn't happen."  
  
"Sure we can. That's probably why we dream about it."  
  
"Possible. Very possible. Anyway, the snowman wanted to tell Austin and Carrie what we were doing, so you told him he would melt if he stayed in Salem, and we took a train to the North Pole to get rid of him." Lucas snickered again. "We took the Titan Sleigh home." Sami joined his giggles, and he wished he could tell her more. But he did not want to upset her by bringing up the subject of Alan, as long ago as it had been. Instead, he took the risk of upsetting himself. "Then I had another dream. I dreamed about being back in Austin's apartment when you lived there with Will, and seeing you at Christmas. But everything changed . . ." Lucas' voice trailed off. This had not been a good idea. As much as he wanted Sami, the one person in the world with the ability to assure him that Will would NOT grow up to be a drug addict, and that she would NOT allow her life to be destroyed if he should happen to pay in full for his sins, to know of his fears, he did not want to ruin their upbeat conversation.  
  
Sami, though, could see the pain on Lucas' face. As gently as she could, she prompted him to speak again.  
  
"It's not a very Christmassy dream. I don't know why I started to tell you."  
  
"It doesn't have to be a Christmassy dream. I want to hear, if you want to tell me." She unconsciously mimicked Brandon's behavior from a few days before. "What changed?"  
  
*My voice will not shake* Lucas thought to himself, but he was unsure as to whether his body was obeying his command. "You went to prison, like you really did. But I wasn't fair. I kept Will away from you, and you found a way to put me on death row as retaliation. I put it off with appeals and everything, for years, but I was only delaying the inevitable, you know? They went to inject me with whatever it is they use, but the vial broke, and it took something like twelve hours for me to die."  
  
"Oh, Lucas..."  
  
"No, no." He waved off her attempts at comfort. "This isn't the bad part. You were there watching, and Will, I guess he wasn't there, but he was old enough to know what was happening and why. He started telling you that you'd killed his father, so you weren't his mother, and you couldn't handle it. You couldn't take care of him, or yourself. He got mixed up in drugs, and if Belle hadn't been there to take care of you, I don't know, as it was you didn't have any kind of life, and it was my fault..."  
  
"Your fault? I was the one who killed you."  
  
"No, Sami, no. It wasn't like that. I deserved it." His face had molded into a mask of pain, and in spite of years of animosity, Sami felt her heart break for him.  
  
"Lucas. Look at me." She commanded. He obeyed. "I love my son. I would never hurt him. And that extends to his father."  
  
"But Sami..."  
  
"Will is not going to grow up to be a drug addict. I'm sure Belle *would* take care of me if she had to, but she won't have to. Everything's fine, and if it's not, it will be."  
  
"We haven't been the world's best parents."  
  
"But we both love our son. That counts for something. And...."  
  
"And?"  
  
"I know how you feel. It was just so lucky that we met, and that we had that one night, because if we hadn't, there wouldn't be a Will. I actually had another dream, too." Lucas broke through his shame enough to look up interestedly. "I was talking to my Aunt Sam. She showed me how important I am to my family, to everyone. You know how I was saying Will grounded me, and made me feel like I had a purpose? She showed me that he was the most important thing, but not the only thing. That just like I'd've been worse off not knowing my family, and my friends, they would've been worse off if they didn't know me. And I think they're all worse off because I'm spending all my time and energy fighting you, when I don't have to. It's not good for you, or for me, or for Will, or for ANYONE. It's not the right thing."  
  
"Sami," Lucas whispered again, and finally he had to make physical contact, finally he reached to take her hand in his own.   
  
Almost before either had had a chance to become aware of the magnitude of this gesture, a delighted Will bounded into the room. His wide eyes went not to the tree, or the presents, but to his parents sitting side-by-side and hand-in-hand. "It worked," he whispered as he stood entranced.  
  
"What worked, Buddy?"  
  
Will did not answer. "Merry Christmas!" he yelled instead.  
  
"Oh, Merry Christmas, Sweetheart," answered Sami, playfully bounding from her seat and cuddling her son into a hug before depositing him between his parents on the couch.  
  
Will shrieked with laughter. "He really came! He's real! Santa Claus is real!"  
  
"Of course Santa Claus is real," Lucas answered. "Why would you think he wasn't?"  
  
"I just thought he might not be. I thought maybe you bought me all my presents." Sami and Lucas exchanged a glance out of the corners of their eyes.  
  
"But now you know he's real?" Sami prompted.  
  
"All I asked him to do was make you care about each other, and he did! He did it! I thought he might not, and I might have to trick you myself--" Sami and Lucas exchanged another glance, "But he did it!" Suddenly Will became afraid. "But is it just for today?" he asked, his voice quavering.  
  
"No," Sami and Lucas answered simultaneously.   
  
"We care about each other, and we care about you. We've told you that," Lucas continued. "It doesn't have anything to do with Christmas, or Santa Claus. It's forever."  
  
Will's eyes widened once more. "Forever?"  
  
"Forever," repeated Sami. "It's not because of Santa Claus. Although he did stop by." She pointed at the tree.  
  
"Those are for me?" asked Will, as if there had been any doubt.  
  
"You've been very good," smiled Sami.  
  
Will was torn between and all-too-adult desire to remain between his parents and an avaricious impulse to explore the enormous collection of toys with his name on them. At last, he gave in to his materialism and tunneled into his mound of gifts, much to the delight of his parents.  
  
"I can't believe he has that much restraint," was Lucas' first comment.  
  
"I know it. *Our* kid."  
  
Before long, though, Will was all but buried beneath mounds of discarded wrapping paper while his parents continued to bask in the happy scene. Sami fought the urge to rest her head against Lucas' shoulder, and Lucas fought the urge to put his arm around Sami. "We haven't had enough of this," he whispered.  
  
"There's time. We can have more."  
  
"We don't know that. You have Brandon in your life--"  
  
"YOU are the one who's married."  
  
Lucas grinned. "We're giving each other divorce papers for Christmas."  
  
"Wow."  
  
"But how serious ARE you and Brandon?"  
  
"Why are you asking?"  
  
"You're my son's mother. You're my friend."  
  
"Good enough. Not that serious. Never will be. We don't click the way you have to click to make it in the long run. I even click better with YOU than with him." Lucas forced himself to laugh at the absurdity of that idea even as he inwardly gloated. The door was still open. He WOULD see that girl again. That beautiful girl. His daughter. His daughters? He WOULD.  
  
They sat in a comfortable silence possessed only by old friends as they continued to watch their son play with his new toys. The books and clothes, of course, were ignored for the time being. The candy had been dutifully shared with his parents. Suddenly, Lucas sat upright, and Sami nearly protested at the loss of his warmth and closeness. Lucas glanced at his wrist and remembered that he had removed his watch while assembling one of Will's new possessions, so he grabbed Sami's wrist instead.  
  
"What?" she complained.  
  
"I told my grandmother I'd bring Will back before Christmas dinner. All of his Horton relatives want to spoil him, too."  
  
"There's still time."  
  
"You don't mind?"  
  
"Far be it for ME to cross Alice Horton."  
  
A flurry of activity once again descended upon the small family as faces were washed and clothes were changed. They hastily made their way back to the buzzing, lively Horton Center. So rushed were Sami and Lucas that they did not think that, when their son flew inside ahead of them, they would be left alone beneath a favorite Christmastime decoration that always adorned the door to the Center.  
  
"Under the mistletoe. Gotta kiss him, Sami!" called a young woman whom Lucas knew was his cousin in some way or other.  
  
"Thanks," was Sami's semi-sarcastic reply. She and Lucas turned to one another and brushed their lips together as quickly as they could. "That's Sarah. She's Mickey and Maggie's daughter. Carrie's age," she whispered in reply to Lucas' unspoken question.  
  
She needn't have whispered. No one in the room was able to perceive a thing but the stunning occurrence they had just witnessed.  
  
"If that's not a Christmas miracle," said Maggie, who had come to stand next to her outspoken daughter, "Nothing is."  
  
The End  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
